


The Woman out of the Fridge

by tptplayer5701



Series: "Mind Games"-verse [29]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alya Césaire Knows, Anxious Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Atlantis, Australia, Babysitting, Bad Parent Audrey Bourgeois, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, Butterfly Miraculous, Caline Bustier Knows, Chloé Bourgeois Being Chloé Bourgeois, Chloé Bourgeois Redemption, Dragon Kagami Tsurugi | Ryuko, Emilie Agreste Lives, Established Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Family, Female Friendship, Fox Alya Césaire | Rena Rouge, Friendship, Gen, Good Chloé Bourgeois, Good Parent Emilie Agreste, Good Parents Sabine Cheng & Tom Dupain, Good Teacher Caline Bustier, Guilt, Homeschooling, Kagami Tsurugi Needs A Hug, Kwami & Miraculous Lore, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste's Bodyguard Acting As Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir's Parental Figure, Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste's Bodyguard Knows, Master Fu Bashing (Miraculous Ladybug), Minor one-sided Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur, Miraculous Holder Rose Lavillant, Miraculous Holder Sabrina Raincomprix, Nathalie Sancoeur Redemption, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peacock Emilie Agreste, Peacock Miraculous, Plagg Being Plagg (Miraculous Ladybug), Post-Hawk Moth Defeat, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Protective Emilie Agreste, Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain Know, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Sick Nathalie Sancoeur, Therapy, Training, Twins, World War II, secret identity issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 41,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tptplayer5701/pseuds/tptplayer5701
Summary: A “Mind Games”-verse Anthology:Emilie Agreste spent four years in a coma, but the world kept going without her. She slept through her son’s teen years and her husband’s crimes. Now she is awake, but so much has changed: her husband in prison, her son engaged. What is her place in this new world, now that she’s out of the fridge?Note: This directly follows"A Miraculous Adventure in Tibet"
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Emilie Agreste, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Le Gorille | Adrien Agreste's Bodyguard, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire & Trixx, André Bourgeois/Audrey Bourgeois, Audrey Bourgeois & Chloé Bourgeois, Bridgette & Sabrina Raincomprix, Chloé Bourgeois & Bridgette, Chloé Bourgeois & Sabrina Raincomprix, Daizzi & Rose Lavillant, Duusu & Amélie Graham de Vanily, Duusu & Nathalie Sancoeur, Duusu & Nooroo (Miraculous Ladybug), Duusu & Trixx, Emilie Agreste & Alya Césaire, Emilie Agreste & Amélie Graham de Vanily, Emilie Agreste & Audrey Bourgeois, Emilie Agreste & Bridgette, Emilie Agreste & Caline Bustier, Emilie Agreste & Chloé Bourgeois, Emilie Agreste & Duusu, Emilie Agreste & Duusu & Nooroo, Emilie Agreste & Kagami Tsurugi, Emilie Agreste & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Emilie Agreste & Master Fu, Emilie Agreste & Nathalie Sancoeur, Emilie Agreste & Original Character(s), Emilie Agreste & Plagg, Emilie Agreste & Rose Lavillant, Emilie Agreste & Sabine Cheng, Emilie Agreste & Sabrina Raincomprix, Emilie Agreste/Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Kagami Tsurugi, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug & Tikki, Nooroo & Sabrina Raincomprix, Sabine Cheng & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: "Mind Games"-verse [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666807
Comments: 124
Kudos: 91





	1. The Ladyblogger

**Author's Note:**

> This anthology has been on my mind as an idea ever since I decided to (eventually) have them wake up Emilie. After all, there’s no way that Emilie returns after 4 years without hitting some snags: her son is a CEO and engaged now, and the last time she saw him he was barely a teenager! I have 13 (!) written, with ideas for more, but my plan is to spread this anthology out by interspersing it with the other anthologies and with the next few multi-chapter stories. However, if you are interested in seeing more at once, put that in a review! Also let me know any specific characters you think she should interact with.
> 
> A note on the title: The “Woman in the Refrigerator” is a common trope (a female character who exists exclusively to be hurt or killed to motivate the male hero)… and that’s literally what Emilie has been for the duration of the series as well as the “Mind Games”-verse before now: she has been in a cryogenic chamber (a type of refrigerator) since before the series began. First she was motivation for Gabriel to get the miraculous, then she was motivation for Adrien to find an alternative method for waking her up. But now they’ve taken the woman out of the refrigerator… so now what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Less than 24 hours awake, and Emilie is already giving an interview for the Ladyblog

Emilie had been awake for less than 24 hours, and she was already sitting to give an interview. She sat up and straightened the simple dress she had decided to wear. It was one from Gabriel’s last collection before their trip to Tibet and she’d only worn it once for some modeling pictures; it had been scheduled for release as part of the Fall line that year. But then she’d had her accident, and Gabriel had apparently scrapped that entire line, so it had never been made available commercially. This dress, she supposed, was symbolic: it had been frozen in time for years before being unearthed as a reminder of happier times.

Adrien had told her that morning that he’d released a brief statement to the press informing them of her recovery and that further details would be coming eventually. In the meantime, the Ladyblog would have the first interview with Emilie since Ladybug and Cat Noir had been instrumental in waking her up, though the Heroes of Paris would not divulge the details. He expected the regular media to be disappointed, but they planned to let one of Marinette’s family friends interview her in a couple weeks once she’d recovered more. For now, the Ladyblog, which happened to be run by Marinette’s best friend, would carry the exclusive story.

Emilie focused in on the young woman across from her as she carefully arranged her phone on its tripod, then adjusted it again, then shifted it again, only to move it one last time. She could sense a level of guardedness from the girl: nervous but trying to hide it behind a veneer of self-confidence. “Are you still so nervous about conducting interviews?” Emilie asked with a smile. “I would have thought you would be used to interviewing people after three years!”

Alya looked up at her in surprise. Something shifted in her pocket, and a bright orange head poked out of the top and stage-whispered, “You can’t show weakness around Peacocks, kit: they can smell fear!”

Emilie’s eyes shot wide open as she took in the Fox Kwami. Alya gave him an annoyed look. “I don’t think Mme Agreste _needed_ to know about you just yet, Trixx,” she muttered.

Emilie chuckled. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you have a miraculous,” she observed kindly. “I can’t imagine there are too many people that Marinette trusts more than you. And this explains why they chose _you_ for this interview.”

Alya giggled. “It does help to have the Ladyblogger on the team,” she agreed. “They want to let you get your feet wet talking to me before any of the other media sharks get their teeth into you. It’s not like Nadja Chamack has a vested interest in editing out any accidental slipups that might compromise the fact that you have a miraculous – not that she knows of, anyways. Or that your son and his fiancée are Cat Noir and Ladybug. Or that the Heroes of Paris meet in your basement. Or that–”

“I beg your pardon,” huffed Duusu indignantly, flying over from where he’d been watching in one of the bookcases and stopping to hover centimeters from Alya’s face. Alya leaned backed, eyes widening in surprise. “Miss Emilie has been keeping the secret of the miraculous for her entire life, since before you were even born! She knows better than to wave to the camera and say, ‘Remember me? I was La Paonne and now I’m back!’”

Trixx scoffed, shot out of Alya’s pocket, and pushed Duusu back away from his holder. “Please,” he retorted. “You wear your heart on your sleeve at all times. If it was up to you, the secret of the miraculous would never have lasted fifteen minutes! We don’t need to think with our _emotions_ right now; we need cool, sly _illusion_ to get the story out there the right way, with just enough truth to satisfy while hiding what needs to be hid.”

Emilie leaned forward and swiped Duusu, who had puffed out his feathers in a sign of anger, out of the air. “I appreciate the vote of confidence,” she told him, running a hand along his back soothingly. “But Trixx is probably right. This isn’t exactly a situation that’s come up for me before. The Butterfly and Peacock operate best from the shadows, behind the scenes, so I don’t think a single one of the Guardians in our family has _ever_ had to give this kind of interview.”

“Trust me,” Alya assured her. “I spent two years trying to trick Ladybug into _revealing_ her identity – not my brightest idea…” she muttered under her breath “– and then another year helping her _preserve_ her identity without letting on that anything had changed. I know what I’m doing.”

“So what do we have to do?” asked Emilie, settling back in her seat.

“Fortunately, Gabriel never made a public statement about how he came across the miraculous,” Alya explained. “If he _had_ , this would be so much harder, having to fit your story with his without giving up the goose. As it is, we can tell the public a good story that points everything _away_ from your family having had the miraculous for generations–”

“That would be preferable, considering what Gabriel did,” Emilie interrupted darkly. Duusu shivered, and Emilie quickly released that spurt of anger into the atmosphere, sending him a flash of her joy at their reunion by way of apology.

“Right,” Alya agreed, nodding. She handed Emilie a notepad, which she opened to reveal page after page of notes, some scribbled out and others written over. The last page had one clean paragraph written. Alya explained, “We don’t need to hide the existence of miraculous; Gabriel made sure of that. Everyone knows you went missing on a trip to the East, so we can work from there. You will explain that the two of you found the miraculous somewhere in China. You didn’t realize the one you picked up was broken, and that’s what accounted for your sudden and unexplained coma and disappearance. Nathalie’s poor health during the height of her time as Mayura is well-documented, and this lines up well with it. Gabriel vowed to use the other miraculous to find a way to save you. After Ladybug and Cat Noir defeated him, they found out about the damaged miraculous and wanted to find a way to repair it and heal you. They did it, so now the miraculous is fixed and safely back in the Heroes’ hands, and you’re awake.”

Emilie skimmed through it quickly and nodded in understanding. “Short, simple, explains everything, and leaves the door open for the Heroes to use the Peacock Miraculous without it pointing back to me.”

“Really, almost everything in here is true, though vague; the only falsehood in the entire story – the only thing we have to hide – is about where the miraculous came from,” Alya told her. “And considering how long ago it was and everything that happened around it and since then, a vague answer will be more than enough to satisfy – better, in fact.”

Emilie let out a sigh, allowing her remaining anxiety to dissipate into the atmosphere. “Thank you. Let’s get this over with.”

Over an hour later, after several takes, the interview was almost over and Alya asked her final question. “Mme Agreste,” she began, “in light of everything you have learned about your husband’s actions since your accident, do you have anything to say to the people of Paris?”

Emilie pursed her lips and looked directly into the camera. “I want to offer my most sincere apology to all of those who were hurt by my… _husband_ ’s… actions,” she answered, making a face at the word “husband.” “I have been shocked and appalled to discover what he did in my name. That is not the man I married. The man I married would never have done such a thing and hurt innocent people. My greatest desire now is to do what I can to help all the people that have suffered at his hands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the Heroes of Paris (meaning Alya) do use the Ladyblog to spread deliberate misinformation on occasion. However, it’s only to preserve their identities, protect the miraculous, etc. It’s not that much different from if Emilie gave the exact same story to Nadja Chamack. Except that in this case the interviewer is coaching her on how to bend the truth in a believable manner. Thinking about it, there’s definite story potential here delving into the ethics of superhero journalism…


	2. Adrien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So... how do you parent a seventeen-year-old CEO?

Emilie stepped out of her room and made her way down to the dining room, expecting to find Adrien there waiting for them to have breakfast together, as he had been the last couple days. However, when she arrived Adrien was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a teenage girl with a dark complexion trying to convince a toddler to eat his oatmeal. A light-green Kwami with translucent wings sat on the table next to them, working its way through a plate of cubed fruit.

“Come on, Marco, just a few more bites,” the girl pleaded, using a napkin to wipe off the spoon he had thrown on the ground.

“No!”

“They are so much fun at that age,” Emilie observed, sitting down at the table and selecting an egg-filled pastry. “It’s so much simpler than when they grow up!”

The girl laughed nervously. “Somehow I can’t imagine how Marco could be _more_ of a challenge when he’s older,” she groaned. “But I’m sure he will find a way…”

“Surely he’s not _yours_ , is he?”

The girl’s eyes grew wide, and Emilie sensed shock and a hint of embarrassment from her. “Certainly not!” she replied quickly. “I’m just his nanny while we’re here helping Adrien and Marinette with their ‘evil miraculous user’ situation. I’m Lise, by the way. We came over here from America.”

“Emilie. I’m Adrien’s mother.”

Lise nodded. “I know. The grotto that held your cryogenic chamber is one of Marco’s favorite spots to hide when I take him downstairs.”

“I don’t recognize you,” Emilie noted, glancing down at the Kwami. “I thought I was familiar with all the Kwamis in the Grimoire, but apparently not.”

“My name is Russa,” she squeaked, beaming up at Emilie as Duusu dropped down to join her. “I’m the Cicada Kwami!”

Emilie cocked her head in confusion. “I… there’s a _Cicada_ Miraculous?”

Lise giggled. “Among others,” she told her. “It turns out there are a whole lot more miraculous than any of us knew about – except the Kwamis themselves, of course.” She gave Russa a look, and the Kwami giggled shrilly. “The temple we came from is in Peru. And apparently there’s a temple in Australia. And there are _five_ of them in Africa!”

“Don’t forget Paxx and Dorreen and Carro and the others!” added Russa brightly, tossing a grape in the air for Duusu to catch.

Lise nodded. “The Dove, Goose, and Shark are all from the Atlantean Miraculous Set,” she explained. Seeing the wide-eyed look on Emilie’s face, she gave her a sympathetic smile. “It’s a lot to take in. You have no idea how surprised _we_ were to find out we weren’t alone!”

Emilie nodded and filed that information away for later. Expanding her senses out, she didn’t find Adrien’s emotions anywhere in the Mansion. She frowned. “Do you know where Adrien is at the moment? I don’t feel him anywhere here.”

“He actually left about an hour ago,” Lise replied. “I think he had to go to work.”

Emilie sighed in disappointment. She had been hoping that after spending the last couple days coming to terms with what Gabriel had done, perhaps she could spend today with Adrien, learning about his life over the last four years – had it _really_ been four years since she had seen him last? Back then, they had spent most of their time together: she would take him to his photo shoots or on outings for school. Their schedules had been so hectic with modeling and acting and design shows and the like that homeschooling Adrien had just made practical sense. He had enjoyed interaction with children his own age through his fencing and modeling and occasional outings to the park when they fit their schedule, though his only close friend had always been Chloe. And in a couple years, homeschooling would have allowed Emilie to begin training Adrien to take over as Guardian.

Of course, going to the public collège had certainly had its benefits for him. From everything she had heard in the last two days, Adrien’s interpersonal connections had fallen to zero while she was in her coma. And had it not been for the public school, Adrien might never have made friends.

Still…

Emilie finished her second pastry and pulled out the new cell phone they had given her the day before. To think that this device had vastly more computing power and speed than even the one she had gotten right before their trip to Tibet! The special features alone would take some getting used to. She scrolled through the contacts to find Adrien and hit the button to call him.

He answered after the second ring. “Mom?”

“Hi, honey!” she replied, smiling in relief. “I’m sorry I missed you this morning! I just wanted to check in and see what you’re up to today!”

“Oh, sorry I didn’t tell you last night,” he answered sheepishly. “I had to go in to the office for a conference call this morning. Our Chinese distributor is getting antsy to discuss the fall sales projections, and I blew it off last week while we prepared for the trip, and then part of this week after you woke up, but I can’t really put it off any longer. The meeting’s going to start in just a couple minutes, actually.”

“Oh, okay.” Emilie tried not to sigh audibly.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Adrien added after a minute. “I–I’ll see you when I get home from work?”

“Of course, dear! I love you!”

“Love you, too, Mom.”

Emilie sighed and returned to her suite to continue her attempts to catch up with society after her four years’ absence. The Ladyblog had proven especially illuminating, though every time she looked at it she found yet another reason to be repulsed by what her _husband_ had done. To think: he had done all of that in her name and using her miraculous! Duusu curled up in her hair while she got lost in a list of Ladybug and Cat Noir’s most challenging battles that Alya had published the week before the one-year anniversary of Gabriel’s defeat. Lunchtime came and went, and someone left a tray with soup and a sandwich at her door for her, though she was so engrossed in reading about the first Heroes’ Day that she didn’t hear them knocking and only found the tray after the soup had grown cold. But the sandwich was still fine, and Duusu enjoyed chasing the carrots and peas around in the lukewarm broth.

“Adrien will be here in a couple minutes,” Duusu finally announced from the nest he had set up for himself above her bed.

Emilie looked up at the clock to see that it was already close to six. Where had the day gone? And what were they going to do for dinner? She stretched her neck to work out the tension from hours spent in the same position and made her way out to the Mansion’s front entry, arriving just as Gorilla opened the door and Adrien came in. “Hi, honey!” she called, walking over and pulling him into a hug. “How was your day?” She held him back at arm’s length and examined his clothes critically. “You’ve really filled out well! I don’t think I’ve seen this style of suit on you before, though it certainly works with your figure. Do you need a snack before dinner?”

Adrien flushed slightly, and Emilie picked up a slight twinge of discomfort from him. “Work was fine, Mom,” he told her. “I actually stopped at the bakery for a couple minutes on the way home when we dropped off Marinette, so I already had a snack.”

Her face fell. “Right. I’d… forgotten.” She smiled excitedly. “What do you want to do tonight? I know: we can order Chinese food and watch _Avatar_ together! Or are you more interested in that _One Piece_ we got you for your birthday?”

Adrien stifled a grimace, but Emilie sensed the emotions underlying it. “I’ve actually started getting really into _Attack on Titan_ lately,” he replied guiltily. “And anyways Nino and a couple of the guys were going to come over to play a new test version of Super Akuma Battle tonight.”

Emilie knew she’d made a mistake and let her disappointment show on her face when Adrien’s guilt magnified and his face fell.

“But… I _could_ reschedule for tomorrow?” he added quickly.

Emilie sensed embarrassment and guilt pouring off of him in waves. A matching strain of nervousness and worry came from Gorilla. She vaguely remembered a comment on the Ladyblog’s recap of the Glaciator incident (how Gabriel could have turned a kindhearted man like André into a literal ice cream monster…) about Adrien not being allowed to get ice cream with his friends, and that this was a regular occurrence. When an Akuma struck Adrien’s birthday, it was because his friend Nino had wanted to throw him a party. Gabriel had not permitted Adrien any sort of social life! He had forced Adrien to cancel on his friends constantly! And here she was, back in his life for three days and he felt like he had to do the same for her… “Don’t be silly, honey,” she insisted, patting him on the shoulder. “Of course you shouldn’t reschedule on my account. I… shouldn’t presume to have the only claim on your time. You aren’t a child anymore, so I can’t treat you like one. It will just… take some getting used to, I think.”

The relief and gratitude from Adrien almost overwhelmed Emilie. “Thanks, Mom!” He threw his arms around her in a tight hug, which she happily returned. “You know,” he added, “Marinette still hasn’t seen _Avatar_ yet. Maybe that’s something the three of us could watch together? Maybe we could start tomorrow night?”

“That would be wonderful, honey,” Emilie replied with a warm smile.

Adrien raced back to his room to get ready for his friends. Emilie was about to follow him back to her own rooms (one of her favorite book series had concluded while she was in a coma, and she _had_ to find out how it ended) when the front door opened again. Little Marco raced inside, dragging behind him a younger woman with blonde hair. Emilie smiled on sensing the love and affection between them. “You must be Marco’s mother,” she observed.

The woman looked up at her, thought for a moment, and grinned. “Yes,” she replied slowly. “Julia. Lise says you met this morning?”

Emilie nodded and gave her a rueful smile. “He’s quite adorable. Enjoy them when they’re that age; they can _literally_ grow up on you overnight!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify the very end, Julia’s picked up some French after living in France for close to four months, though she’s not overly comfortable in the language yet. She’s “younger” because she’s over 10 years younger than Emilie: Julia is 25; Emilie is 39 (went into the coma at 35, Adrien was born when she and Gabriel were about 22).


	3. Adrien and Marinette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Movie night with the son and his fiancée... but why's she so skittish?

When she stepped through the open doorway into her son’s bedroom, Duusu sitting on her shoulder, Emilie wasn’t sure what she expected to find. Before the accident, as often as not she would have found Adrien sprawled out on his bed reading a manga, or else surrounded by a wide array of his action figures, acting out a scene from his latest anime obsession. At least once every day she would hear the sound of Adrien playing the piano and come down to listen. Occasionally, Adrien and Chloe (sometimes joined by Sabrina) would be playing a video game together. Once or twice Adrien had invited a friend from fencing over and she might have found them racing up the rock climbing wall.

Emilie hadn’t expected to find Adrien and his girlfriend ( _fiancée_! she corrected herself) tangled up together in a mess of limbs on the couch. She cleared her throat, and Marinette sprang off the couch like she’d been shot from a cannon, blushing profusely, and caught the back of her calf on the edge of the coffee table. She threw her arms out and yelped as she lost her balance, and would have fallen backward over it had Adrien not jumped up and reached out to grab her. Unfortunately he missed catching one of her flailing arms and only managed a handful of her blouse, which stretched and tore at the collar.

High-pitched cackling laughter came from the far side of the room but was quickly silenced.

“I’m so sorry! Normally no one is staying in the family wing but us…” Marinette stared at Emilie, eyes wide in terror and embarrassment. She tore her eyes away to look down at the floor, only to notice her wrinkled, stretched, and torn blouse, which hung far enough off her shoulder to reveal her bra strap and more. Her blush became, if possible, deeper, and spread to cover her entire face, ears, and neck, clashing with her lacy pink bra. She desperately tried and failed to smooth the blouse out and readjust it. “Oh, I’m such a klutz,” she muttered, hiding her face in her hands in embarrassment.

“Not to worry, dear,” Emilie assured her, waving a hand dismissively. “Entirely my fault for startling you. Besides, this house has more clothing than we know what to do with! Can I fetch you something to change into? Do we need snacks for the show?”

“That sounds great!” Marinette smiled at her, so wide it almost turned into a grimace. Emilie sensed an almost overpowering wave of anxiety from her as she bolted past her and out of the room. Tikki gave Emilie a sympathetic look and followed Marinette a little more slowly. “I’ll go pop some popcorn to go with the pizza!”

Emilie watched her race around the corner toward the kitchen in confusion. How had she upset the girl this time? But at the same time she could feel nothing but happiness and love and excitement from Adrien. Adrien turned on the television and rooted through his (greatly expanded in the last four years) DVD collection to find _Avatar_. Unsure what else to do, Emilie left to follow Marinette: if nothing else, she could find the girl a new top to replace the one she’d ruined.

The first hall closet Emilie tried, the one where Gabriel had shoved all the old shirts from his aborted attempt at a pop culture line nearly ten years ago, surprisingly contained bed linens and towels instead. The room next to it, which they had filled almost to the ceiling with unsold merchandise over the years, was empty of clothing and had been arranged as yet another guest room. Emilie furrowed her brows in confusion. But the next door down the hallway led to the kitchen. To her amazement, when she looked inside she saw that Marinette had already found a new shirt somewhere and was just straightening her hair. She was standing in front of the stove, gesticulating wildly and talking quietly to Tikki, who was just visible sitting on the counter and munching on a macaroon.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” Emilie apologized, crossing the room to lean against the center island. Marinette spun around in shock and clutched at the counter edge, nearly knocking the pan off the stove in the process.

“Oh, it’s okay,” Marinette told her, giving her a strained smile. “You know me: poor, clumsy Marinette – only you _don’t_ really know me. Because we’d never met before, and now Adrien and I are together, and I just keep–” she suddenly flinched and yelped, rubbing at a spot on her lower back, before looking up at Emilie and swallowing nervously.

“Do–do you want some help?” Emilie asked timidly.

Marinette let out a breath. “Right. Um, if you could get out the big plastic bowl?”

Emilie nodded and crouched in front of the island cabinet where they kept the plastic dishes. Whenever they’d had family movie nights, she had always used the same bowl to hold their popcorn: it had started off as a plain white bowl, but Adrien had decorated it to look like a Pokéball and covered it with stickers during the Pokémon phase when he was four. She opened the cabinet to find… cookbooks. Emilie cocked her head in confusion. “Huh.”

Marinette glanced down and told her, “Oh, sorry I didn’t think to warn you: Mme Lenoir and I rearranged the kitchen last winter so it would be easier for her to use. The plastic bowls are in the big floor-length cabinet on the far wall.”

Emilie sighed as she found the correct cabinet and rummaged through it to find a plain blue plastic bowl. “What happened to the other bowl?” she asked in surprise.

“Adrien decided it was finally time to retire the Pokébowl,” Marinette explained, shaking the pan to pop the last few kernels before sprinkling in the seasoning. She accepted the bowl and filled it to the brim with popcorn.

“What would you like to drink?” they both asked at the same time.

Marinette flushed and answered, “Um… water’s fine for me.”

Emilie nodded and pulled out cups. “Two waters, and then milk for Adrien?”

“Actually, he normally drinks Coke.”

“Of course.” Emilie turned to the refrigerator and pursed her lips. She supposed it was unreasonable for Adrien to still be the same boy now that he was four years ago. And for the kitchen to be arranged the same way. And for the rooms of their house to have the same things she remembered…

“Right,” Marinette muttered to herself, pulling the pizza out of the oven, transferring it to a new tray, slicing it quickly, and balancing it and the popcorn in her arms. “I think we’ve got everything!”

When they returned to Adrien’s bedroom, the show was already cued up to start, and Adrien had cleared off the table for the food and spread out a blanket on the back of the couch. Emilie and Marinette laid out the food on the coffee table and they all served themselves before Adrien sat down on one end of the couch and Marinette lay down across the couch with her head in his lap. Tikki and Duusu both grabbed armfuls of popcorn and settled on the table, where Plagg joined them after pulling some of the cheese of Adrien’s pizza slice. Emilie took the armchair on the far side of the couch, and Adrien hit the button to start the first episode. Emilie smiled in spite of herself on feeling the love and affection between the two kids as Adrien pulled down the blanket to cover Marinette and slipped his hand beneath it and placed it on her. Marinette flushed in embarrassment and slipped his hand out from under the blanket to rest on her side, covering it with her own. Adrien glanced down at her in surprise that quickly shifted through a half-dozen emotions into acceptance.

Emilie chuckled. “It’s incredible that the two of you can have an entire conversation just through micro-expressions!” She felt confusion from both of them and rushed to ask, “You didn’t realize that’s what you were doing? The way you read each other’s tiniest movements to communicate just now?”

“That’s what that’s called?” Adrien asked in surprise.

Emilie nodded. “Reading micro-expressions was one thing your grandmother emphasized when I first started training as Guardian,” she explained. “She considered it important as a way to confirm whatever emotions I sensed through the miraculous.”

Adrien’s jaw dropped. “So _that_ ’s how you always seemed to know exactly what I was thinking?”

Emilie smiled mischievously. “Between that and Duusu, yes.”

Marinette shrugged. “We just learned how to pick up on each other’s cues and anticipate each other’s actions after fighting Akumas together for so long.”

Emilie smiled. “Most couples it takes years to be able to do that. It’s nice to see you already so in sync.” _Even if I wish it hadn’t happened for this reason_ , she didn’t add. Seventeen-going-on-forty after having so much responsibility thrown at them in such a brief span of time…

As Emilie watched the kids get lost in the show, as she felt their emotions blending together into warm love and joy, she had to smile at seeing Adrien so happy – the happiest she had ever felt him. And yet, with Marinette as clearly the most important person in his life – she had clearly stepped up to become the “Ladybug of the house” – where did that leave Emilie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adrien hired Marianne Lenoir as a housekeeper after Hawk Moth’s defeat.


	4. Marinette and Sabine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to talk mothers' dresses... and for the mothers to visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the moment my plan is to publish another “Life and Times” one-shot tomorrow and continue “Fridge” after the next multi-chapter story, “It Came from Outer Space.” However, I could continue with “Fridge” for a while longer if the readers are enjoying it. If that’s the case, let me know in a review!

As she pushed the bakery door open, Emilie had to smile at the strange confluence of events: while the park across the street had not by any means been Adrien’s _favorite_ place to play growing up, they had gone there on a few occasions, and every time he had begged her to stop at the bakery across the street for a snack. The last time had been years before the accident, but Emilie could still remember the smiling woman with short dark hair behind the counter who had taken their order and handed them their bag of macaroons before they went back outside to sit in the park and eat their treats.

This time there was a young woman – probably around lycée-age – behind the counter. She had just opened her mouth to take Emilie’s order when the enormous baker stuck his head out of the kitchen door. On seeing Emilie he nodded in recognition. “They’re already upstairs,” he told her. “Just head up the stairs to the apartment, and then just knock on the trapdoor to find Marinette’s room.”

“Thank you, M. Dupain,” she replied politely, smiling in greeting.

He grinned from ear to ear. “Tom and Sabine, please – after all, we’re practically family, right?” A timer went off in the kitchen, and he disappeared back through the doorway.

Emilie chuckled as she let herself through the door. They _were_ practically family now, weren’t they? Even apart from the impending wedding, it sounded like Marinette’s parents had all-but-adopted Adrien after Gabriel’s arrest, and over the last year he had spent more time with them than he had at the Agreste Mansion – not that she could really blame him. She’d had a long conversation with Plagg the other night and been appalled at the years of emotional neglect that Plagg had described. The Kwami had been hesitant to share, but once he had started talking – his tongue loosened by a few pieces of provolone – it had taken half the night for him to finally stop. That certainly explained Adrien’s absolute devotion to Marinette, and her gentleness and overt affection towards him.

Just below the trapdoor she stopped when she heard soft voices speaking from Marinette’s room. She tapped gently on it, and Marinette called, “Come in!”

Emilie pushed the door open and found designs and bolts of fabric strewn all over the room – Gabriel’s home office hadn’t looked any better before renting their first studio! Marinette and Sabine sat on the chaise in front of a table with a tea set and three teacups. Sabine had a bolt of shimmery silver fabric in her hands and was studying it carefully. Tikki was sitting on the edge of a plate of macaroons, one of which was halfway into her mouth. “I suppose this answers the question of whether your parents know,” Emilie observed with a smile, nodding to Tikki.

Sabine smiled and let out a giggle. “Tikki is our best taste-tester!” she replied, patting Tikki on the head fondly.

“I can’t help they’re all so good!” squeaked Tikki, giggling shrilly.

Emilie sighed on feeling the warmth in Sabine’s emotions, balancing out the anxiety once again rolling off of Marinette in waves. Duusu emerged from Emilie’s purse, flew over to Tikki, and grabbed a macaroon from the plate. Sabine raised an eyebrow on seeing the Kwami and gave Emilie an evaluating look.

“How much have the kids told you?” asked Emilie, raising an eyebrow at her in return and helping herself to a macaroon.

“They have been somewhat close-lipped on the subject,” Sabine replied, giving Marinette a mischievous smile. “We know they had to do _something_ big to wake you up, but we’ve made it a policy not to pry – as long as they are open about where they are, we trust them to stay safe. And since telling them we knew, they’ve only _failed_ to tell us once!”

“ _Mama_ ,” Marinette whined. “I _swear_ we had no idea we were going to be running off to find a sword that killed me in a dystopian alternate future when we left!”

Emilie nearly choked on her macaroon.

“Kids,” Sabine complained, shaking her head though Emilie could sense her amusement. “They grow up so fast.”

Emilie sighed. “One day you’re putting a Euro under their pillow because they lost another baby tooth, and the next thing you know they’re getting married!” Emilie picked up one of the sketchbooks lying on the table and flipped through the dozen dress designs Marinette had come up with for her and Sabine to wear for the wedding. She felt another twinge of nervousness from Marinette. Movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention as Tikki flew up to Marinette’s shoulder.

“You lost out on so much with him,” Sabine sympathized, handing Emilie a teacup and squeezing her hand. “But you must be so proud! He has turned out to be a wonderful young man – Tom and I are simply thrilled to see how well he treats our Marinette. I can tell he had a good upbringing. So polite and kind – he certainly didn’t learn any of that from _Gabriel_.”

“Thank you,” Emilie answered, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. “And thank _you_ for taking him in and taking care of him after Gabriel’s arrest.”

Sabine smiled. “That was our pleasure,” she assured her. “With how important he is to Marinette, how could we do otherwise? And with how much he did – how much they _both_ did – to protect Paris for so long, and without support–”

“What do you mean, ‘without support’?” Emilie interrupted, eyes shooting wide open.

Sabine nodded in realization. “Of course you wouldn’t know what it was like,” she commented. “How could you? Ladybug and Cat Noir were fighting on their own for so long – Marinette said it wasn’t until months later that she even met this Master Fu who gave them their miraculous. That was when they finally started getting a little help here and there from the others. Tom and I had a long conversation with this Master before they left for Tibet, and he said it’s normal for miraculous users to be given time and space to learn about their abilities.”

“I see.” Emilie pursed her lips.

“So after all of that, giving them both what support we could was the least we could do,” Sabine continued, seeming not to have noticed the look on Emilie’s face. “After all, it’s been quite a while since Paris had a super protector.”

Emilie started in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot over the last few years,” Sabine explained. “One of my University friends told me the wildest story – years ago, before we’d graduated. She went to the bar one night and had a little too much to drink, and some man pushed her into a dark alley on her way home. She said she was terrified, but an enormous blue bodybuilder appeared out of nowhere to save her. He didn’t say anything, and the moment the man was gone he disappeared. I dismissed it as crazy talk at the time, but with all the superheroes running around Paris lately, I can’t help but wonder if there was one all the way back then.”

Emilie felt her cheeks redden.

“Mama,” Marinette told her, smiling, “you’re actually talking to her. Mme Agreste was called La Paonne. She was using the Peacock Miraculous to help people long before M. Agreste started using the miraculous for evil.”

Sabine chuckled. “I should have believed my friend, then! So does that mean that the Heroes of Paris are gaining a new member now?”

Emilie glanced at Marinette, reaching out to feel her emotions, churned up as they were – anxiety, nervousness, fear… hope?

“I… didn’t want to assume,” Marinette began hesitantly. “After all, you’ve been away for so long and you’ve been through so much. But if you want to – but there’s no pressure, and you definitely don’t _have_ to – but we would love you to have you on the team – though it’s not really what you’re used to – but Adrien would be thrilled if you were part of our team – and you wouldn’t even have to go out in the field; Impératrice Pourpre normally operates from Headquarters–”

“Dear,” Emilie interrupted her, holding a hand up to forestall more of the girl’s babbling, “I would welcome the opportunity to help you and Adrien and the rest of your team.” She smiled. “If nothing else, I look forward to having a chance to get to know the most important woman in my son’s life better!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Sabine’s story sounds familiar, it’s because it’s from “Mind Games” [chapter 8](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23397484/chapters/56381104).


	5. A Tour of the Mansion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien gives Emilie a tour of the Mansion - or at least part of it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The suggestion for this chapter came from Bex is a Slytherin. If you have suggestions for character interactions or events, let me know! I’m going to continue with this anthology for a while longer, at least through chapter 9.

Emilie looked up on hearing the quick knock on her suite door. Pushing her empathy outward, she smiled on recognizing who it was. “It’s open, Adrien!” she called. When he poked his head inside, she asked, “What can I do for you?”

“Actually,” he replied, grinning, “I was going to ask the same thing! I realize we’ve moved a lot of things around in the last year, and Marinette pointed out you might not be able to find everything. So… do you want the grand tour?”

“Your fiancée is such a sweetheart,” Emilie observed warmly. “I would love to see what the two of you have done with the house – I haven’t really strayed past the family wing yet, and I already feel like it’s far different than I remember!”

“I’m sorry things are so different now,” Adrien apologized, guilt creeping into his emotions.

“Don’t be,” Emilie responded dismissively. “For the last year this has been _your_ house, and you have made it comfortable! Once I’m a little more used to it, I think I will be comfortable here, too.”

Emilie followed Adrien out of the suite and down the hallway past the master bedroom and his own bedroom. He pulled open the door to the fourth bedroom in the family wing and led her inside. On looking more closely, Emilie could see some small Chinese touches in the decorations, matching the pattern on the bedspread. “We decided to set up this room as another guest room when we started getting more heroes moving in – that way our family and friends have a set room near ours to use and won’t be bothering everyone who’s staying with us,” he explained. “We moved the unsold merchandise from here into the master bedroom – we filled the closets and there are a bunch of boxes in there, too.” He laughed. “There’s a lot less now than when Father was arrested; a couple friends have needed changes of clothing, and every so often we donate a bunch to homeless shelters. Lately we’ve also brought some to the Drug Rehab Centers our Charity started this summer – with the tags removed, of course: no one wants to wear Gabriel anymore.”

Emilie nodded and smiled on feeling the swell of pride from Adrien as he talked. “I’m glad to know it’s all finding a use,” she told him. “Have you used this room much for visitors yet?”

Adrien shook his head ruefully. “Not really. Marinette’s grandmother was in town for a week over the summer, but she stayed with Tom and Sabine. It’s a good thing, too, since the Mansion was an absolute madhouse – she happened to be here at the same time that we made our last move against the Lynchpin’s drug smuggling, and people were in and out at all hours! We’ll probably need it for the wedding, though,” he added, leading her down the hallway to the kitchen. They went inside to find Marianne stirring a pot of soup. “Good afternoon, Mme Lenoir,” Adrien greeted her. “That smells great!”

“Hopefully it will taste even better!” she replied, smiling brightly. She turned back to the soup and immediately swatted a small black head peeking over the edge of a smaller sauce pan with her ladle. “None of that, Plagg! Wait for the fondue to be finished, first!”

“Un- _brie_ -lievable!” Plagg huffed, folding his arms and leaning against the spatter guard on the back of the stove. “I don’t care _cheddar_ or not it’s finished; it smells _gouda_ -nough as it is!”

Marianne shook her head and gave Adrien a look. “We need to restock on cheese again, dear,” she informed him, pointing the ladle in Plagg’s direction.

“I’ll order some _morbier_ ,” Adrien promised, grinning.

“And how are you, dear?” Marianne asked Emilie.

“Very well, thank you,” she replied, smiling politely. “Lunch was wonderful as always.”

“Oh, thank you!” Marianne smiled, though Emilie could feel an undercurrent of nervousness. “I know it’s not the same as your old chef…”

“Nonsense!” Emilie chuckled. “Sometimes change is a good thing, and I have loved your more traditional recipes. Besides,” she added, “I can’t imagine any other chef taking too kindly to Kwamis floating in and out of the kitchen at all hours.” At that moment a grey Kwami phased out of the refrigerator, a piece of sausage in her mouth.

“I hope there’s still some left in there, Mettli,” Marianne called after her.

“I didn’t take too much!” Mettli replied, flying out of the kitchen toward the guest wing.

Marianne shook her head. “As long as they don’t make a mess…”

Emilie laughed easily and looked around the room fondly. “I remember the last time I tried baking a cake with Adrien,” she noted, sighing. “I don’t think any of the batter actually made it into the pan!”

“Do you enjoy baking?” Marianne asked, leaning against the counter next to the stove. “Marinette cooks a couple times a week.” She shuffled over to the floor-length cabinets. “If you would like, I can show you where everything is since we rearranged.”

Emilie joined her by the cabinets. “I would love to spend more time in the kitchen!” she told her eagerly, paying careful attention as Marianne pointed out where all of the pots and pans went in the first cabinet, then the smaller appliances and baking supplies in the next cabinet.

“The way it was arranged at first, so many of the pots I used most frequently were up on the top shelf where I couldn’t reach them,” explained Marianne. “For the first six months, I was using a stepladder to get things down and put them back, until Marinette finally suggested that we rearrange everything to be more convenient for me.” She opened the last cabinet and selected a gravy bowl before making her way back to the stove and pouring half the pot of fondue into the dish. Setting it down in front of Plagg she told him, “There you go, but it’s going to be hot.”

“Thanks, kiddo,” the Kwami told her, dropping into the bowl with a plop. “And it’s nothing like as hot as Vesuvius!”

“It must be a challenge to handle all the people staying here,” Emilie observed. “To say nothing of the Kwamis!”

“Marinette has been a lifesaver,” Marianne acknowledged, her emotions showing contentment. “And the others have helped a lot, too.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do!” Emilie told her as she followed Adrien out of the kitchen and down the hallway toward the entrance hall. Before following him into the office, she stopped next to a life-size statue of a man with red hair, a burgundy kimono, and a sheathed sword. She stared at it. “I keep meaning to ask: what on earth is this?”

“You mean Kenshin?” Adrien asked, grinning mischievously. “He was on sale.”

She gave him a deadpan look, but started laughing on feeling his overwhelming humor. “Okay, I’ll pretend I actually understood that.”

“He’s from an anime I found last year,” Adrien explained. “A manslayer who turned his life around, swore off killing, and started helping people. He seemed oddly appropriate next to the door to Hawk Moth’s old lair. Hawk Moth himself may not have changed, but the _lair_ sure has.”

Emilie nodded and followed him into the office. “I love how you redecorated in here,” she observed, looking around and taking in the décor.

Adrien grinned proudly. “I just gave Marinette carte blanche and let her go wild in decorating!” he told her. “It’s the same with the tapestries in the entrance hall: Marinette designed those to make the Mansion more warm and inviting. If you know what to look for, they even show the history of the miraculous – a more complete history now that we know more about Atlantis.”

“They are amazing!” Emilie gushed. She looked around the office, at the slightly more modern furniture. “All the same, I do miss your father’s desk – that was the first one he ever bought for the first studio. He designed the clothes that put Agreste on the map on that desk!”

She gasped on feeling the stab of discomfort and anger from Adrien. “I Cataclysmed that desk apart in the spring,” he told her harshly, staring at the far wall. Shame flooded his emotions as he spoke. He went on, barely above a whisper. “I really hated it for the last three years. The only times I ever saw Father were behind that desk, and only when he was especially upset.”

Emilie swallowed hard. Here was his sore spot, and she had reopened the wound. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder. He stood stiffly as she hugged him. “I spoke thoughtlessly. I missed so much, and I forget just how many of your memories from that time are unhappy ones.”

He broke and wrapped his arms around her tightly. “Not all my memories are bad,” he told her, nodding to the far wall.

She started on seeing the portrait of herself talking up a third of the wall. “Why…?”

Adrien chuckled humorlessly. “That’s how Father activated the elevator to his lair; I wanted to keep it there after his arrest so we’d always have that reminder of the first Hero of Paris – though I did balance it out with the picture of the second one.” He pointed to the portrait of Marinette on the opposite wall.

“Marinette and not both of you?” Emilie asked. She had to school her expression to prevent herself from reacting on feeling the wave of depression from him.

“She doesn’t really need me,” he muttered sullenly.

Emilie let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “You know that’s not true,” she told him. “I don’t need to sense emotions to know that she would be as lost without you as you would be without her. And as heroes your miraculous form a perfect pair: you balance each other out.”

He groaned. “I know – believe me, I know! Marinette only tells me every day! But for two years it felt like I was on the outside. Master Fu took Marinette into his confidence, and not me. Father was distant and cold. I could barely have friends – I would have been entirely alone without Marinette and Nino and Alya. All of that’s been different for the last year, but even then it’s because of Marinette.”

Emilie nodded sadly and held him tight. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” she whispered, kissing him on the cheek. “You shouldn’t have been made to feel like that, like you weren’t good enough or you were alone. You are a wonderful young man, and your friends absolutely love you. And so do I.”

Adrien sighed and relaxed into her embrace. “Thank you.”

“And you and your friends have become far greater heroes than I ever was,” she added, smiling encouragingly.

“I just wanted to make you proud,” he replied, returning her smile.

She squeezed his shoulder. “You can’t possibly _make_ me proud; I’m already proud of you, Adrien!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That took a bit of a detour in there, so I may work all or part of the rest of the Mansion into a later chapter


	6. Jeanne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie stops at Agreste and runs into an old friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeanne Legrande first appeared in [“Tit for Tat.”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23968420/chapters/57648913) She’s the Lead Designer at Agreste and Marinette’s mentor. When Adrien was little, she would watch him during Emilie’s photo shoots.

A couple days after visiting Marinette and Sabine at the bakery to discuss dresses, having hardly left the Mansion since waking up, Emilie finally decided it was long past time for her to go and see the company that still bore her family’s name. The Agreste Fashion House had been Gabriel’s dream long before they had ever met, and she had been only too happy to support him in the endeavor, both financially and otherwise. When they had first started the fashion house, _she_ had been the one to make the phone calls and keep the financial records, to say nothing of managing the personnel. Even after Adrien had been born, when the company was starting its rapid expansion and Gabriel had hired a manager to oversee the company and Nathalie to manage him, Emilie had stayed involved in the company’s management from the background, auditing the financial records on a yearly basis. But with everything that had happened – even apart from Gabriel’s arrest – what kind of shape would the company be in now?

At least the building was still standing…

She was just walking through the front door when she heard a gasp and looked over to see Jeanne Legrande staring at her, eyes wide, from across the atrium. Jeanne ran over to her and threw her arms around her in a tight hug, kissing her on both cheeks. “Emilie! It’s so wonderful to see you again! I was so happy to find out you were alive, I almost rushed right over to see you, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” She held Emilie out at arm’s length and looked her down critically. “You look surprisingly well, all things considered.”

“All thanks to Ladybug and Cat Noir,” Emilie replied, smiling brightly and putting her hands on Jeanne’s shoulders. “It’s so good to see you! And you are welcome to come over any time for a visit; you are _never_ overwhelming! I would miss it if we couldn’t resume our weekly get-togethers!”

“Then you _must_ let me take you out for coffee and tea right now,” insisted Jeanne, grinning eagerly and dragging her toward the exit. “There’s this amazing little coffee shop just down the street – it opened about two years ago, so I’m almost certain you’ve never been there before.”

“Oh, I couldn’t take you away from your work,” Emilie objected.

“Nonsense!” Jeanne laughed. “We just finished approving the Winter line yesterday, and I’ve got my assistant back now to keep an eye on the younger designers – even if she _is_ younger than they are! Besides,” she added, “it’s not every day you get a friend back from the dead – or close enough to it.”

Emilie smiled warmly as they walked and Jeanne filled her in on the last four years. Her daughter had moved away to Italy after lycée to attend university, and now it looked like she would be staying there after her graduation in two years. She had chosen to study chemistry and been offered a summer internship at a company that seemed interested in hiring her on. Emilie remembered that the girl had shown an aptitude for the sciences as far back as collège; Jeanne and her husband had worked hard to allow her to attend a _lycée technologique_ – unbeknownst to Jeanne, Emilie had anonymously started a scholarship fund at that school specifically for Renee. As they placed their orders in the little coffee shop, Emilie pulled out her wallet, but Jeanne shook her head emphatically and slapped Emilie’s hand lightly. “Don’t even think about it, dear; it’s my treat!”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly–” Emilie objected.

“I insist,” Jeanne told her. She chuckled and led the way to a table near the back. “I may work for _your_ company, but you are _my_ friend! Besides, your son is far better at taking care of his employees than Gabriel was the last couple of years.”

Emilie sighed in relief. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Jeanne shook her head ruefully. “He actually insisted on doubling my salary when he named me as his new Lead Designer last year,” she confided. “Considering the circumstances, I thought it was a typo on the contract when he first showed it to me, but he was adamant.”

“How _is_ the company doing lately?” asked Emilie evenly, keeping the anxiety out of her voice.

Jeanne chuckled. “If you had asked me that question a year ago, I would have given us through Christmas at the best,” she admitted. “We averaged a dozen resignations a day between Gabriel’s arrest and his sentencing – my Design Team was nothing but a skeleton crew by the time the dust had settled. The only reason I stayed on was for Adrien’s sake, to be honest. Distributors were in an uproar. Sales were in the toilet since no one wanted to wear clothing with Hawk Moth’s name on it.” Emilie flinched, and Jeanne covered her hand with her own. “I’m sorry, dear.”

Emilie waved her other hand dismissively. “No, it’s okay. I still can’t believe Gabriel would do such terrible things.”

Jeanne pursed her lips sympathetically. “I certainly wouldn’t have expected it of him back when I first came to work for you,” she confessed. “He changed without you in his life. He hid away from everything, threw himself into his work – well, that and his _terrorism_. He didn’t want anything to do with anyone.”

“Even Adrien,” Emilie whispered sadly.

“Especially Adrien,” acknowledged Jeanne, a hitch in her voice. “I–I wished there was more I could do for him those first three years, but Gabriel would have none of it – he cut me out of his and Adrien’s personal lives almost entirely.” She brightened. “But for all that, you should be proud of your son: he’s been so strong this year; I don’t think there’s a single poor decision he’s made since taking over the company from Gabriel. He could have just sold the company, and everyone would have understood. We had several offers on the table – fire sale prices, of course, but at the time that’s all the company’s reputation was worth to be honest. But he refused all of them and decided to stick it out. He’s managed to rehabilitate the company’s name in the community far faster than I would have thought possible – the Heroes of Paris line and Charity certainly helped with that. At this point, I would say we’re back close to where we were two years ago in terms of sales. In terms of creative vision, it’s easily the best the company has been in years – Gabriel’s vision started to cloud while he was ‘distracted.’ And of course the new creative direction is all thanks to Marinette.”

“So what do you think of Marinette?” asked Emilie, sipping her tea.

Jeanne took a bite of her scone and eyed Emilie slyly. “You wouldn’t be looking for a character reference for your future daughter-in-law, would you?”

Emilie flushed in embarrassment. “Not really?” she tried. “I mean, I only met her last week, and I owe her so much–” Jeanne hummed contemplatively. “It’s just… I don’t know why but she doesn’t seem very comfortable around me.”

Jeanne smiled sympathetically. “Give it time,” she advised. “You are important to Adrien, which means you’re important to her. As I said, I don’t think Adrien has made a single poor decision. The girl can get carried away with her anxieties, but she has proven to be very responsible and strong. Every time I give her another responsibility at the company, she rises to the challenge as though she was born for it. To be honest, I thought he’d lost his mind when Adrien said he wanted me to train his sixteen-year-old girlfriend to essentially become the next Gabriel, but she’s impressed me with her design aesthetic – _and_ her work ethic.”

Emilie nodded. “I’m glad to hear the company is in such good hands with the two of them,” she told her. She smiled. “Just by watching the two of them over the last week, I knew they were in good hands with each other!”

It was amazing to find out that the company was doing so well under Adrien’s leadership, and that he and Marinette worked so well together in the Fashion House. Of course, Emilie couldn’t help but wonder where _her_ place was in all of this.


	7. Chloe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shopping date with the honorary niece!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The suggestion for this one-shot came from Butterfly (on FF.net). If there’s someone you want to see Emilie’s reunion with, put it in a review!

“Aunt Emilie!”

Emilie smiled brightly as she crossed the atrium toward the tall blonde waiting for her just outside the store on the ground level of the Agreste Fashion House building. Chloe gave her a broad smile, though Emilie could feel an undercurrent of tangled emotions beneath that happy façade. Still, as she took in her adopted niece’s appearance, Emilie had to admit: the last four years had been good to her. Chloe was no longer the long, thin thirteen-year-old she remembered, having filled out a little during that time. Chloe wore a tank-top and shorts that showed off her toned muscles, as well as an entire summer’s-worth of tan. Her hair seemed to have lightened in the sun. And there was something about the way she carried herself… No longer was Chloe trying to be a carbon copy of Audrey; the easy confidence she exuded was all her own.

“Wow!” Emilie observed, putting her hands on Chloe’s shoulders and pulling her in for a quick hug and a kiss on her cheek. “You look good, sweetie!”

A shadow passed through Chloe’s eyes, matching a slight twinge of anxiety, but it was gone as soon as Emilie noticed it. “Thanks!” the girl replied, her grin widening too much. She coughed, and her grin returned to normal. “Ladybug decided I should put some of my _other_ skills to good use this summer and play ‘ambassador,’ so I’ve been visiting all the African temples – plus a trip to Australia. Sorry I haven’t stopped to see you yet; I was in Angola with Rugindo Leoa for a few days, and I think I picked something up while I was there.”

“Well, it looks like the sun agreed with you!”

“Too much,” Chloe agreed, frowning. “I need to replace my whole wardrobe now!”

Emilie arched an eyebrow. “I know that’s just an excuse, kiddo.”

Chloe scoffed and turned to lead the way into the store, flicking her ponytail as she did so. “Please: as if I need an _excuse_ to go shopping!”

Emilie followed her through the store to find a corner section with “Marinette” painted on the wall in careful cursive. Underneath were clothes of many different varieties, most of which had patterns of vibrant reds and oranges that reminded Emilie of nothing so much as the large tree just inside the Mansion gate. A smaller section had a logo with a small red-and-black yin-yang symbol; examining the clothing more closely Emilie saw that each piece had elements reminiscent of the Heroes of Paris’ suits she’d seen on the Ladyblog. Another section held clothing with more of an international flair.

“The last four years have been so weird,” Chloe muttered, running her hand down the sleeve of a Ladybug-inspired jacket in the Heroes of Paris section.

“Oh?” Emilie could feel hints of amusement and shame in Chloe’s emotions.

“You remember the girl I told you about? The one that everyone likes and who has the most amazing parents?”

Emilie nodded. “The one you sort of despised at school for having everything you didn’t and not having to _earn_ her mother’s attention? What about her?”

In response Chloe raised her eyebrows and nodded toward the label over that section, shaking her head ruefully. “Oh, I only idolized her for two years without knowing it, and then she somehow became one of my best friends…” She looked at Emilie and flushed. “Um… don’t tell her I said that?”

Emilie giggled. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Chloe put the Ladybug jacket back on the rack and selected a darker yellow one with a single black horizontal stripe. She hummed contemplatively and draped it over her arm.

“Isn’t the yellow a little on-the-nose?” Emilie asked, smiling in amusement.

Chloe smirked. “Is it ‘on-the-nose,’ or is it ‘branding’? After all, it’s not like I have a secret identity to hide!”

Emilie chuckled. “I had been meaning to ask you about that.”

“Do you honestly think I would be able to _hide_ a secret like that?” Chloe commented rhetorically.

“Have you ever hidden a secret in your life – before last year, I mean?” Emilie asked by way of reply. She sighed wistfully. “I still remember when we met. You marched right up to me and Adrien, tossed your hair exactly like Audrey, and announced, ‘My name is Chloe Bourgeois, I’m four years old, and my Daddy is the Mayor of Paris, so if you aren’t nice to me, he’ll throw you in jail!’”

Chloe flushed. “I’ve been trying to forget that…” she mumbled.

“I thought it was adorable,” Emilie told her. She pulled a blouse off the international rack and held it up to Chloe. Chloe eyed it critically, shrugged, and added it to the growing pile over her arm. “You reminded me so much of–” She cut off abruptly on feeling the surge of anger from Chloe. “I’m sorry.”

Chloe’s face showed nothing but cool dispassion, the only overt indicator of her mood the slight flaring of her nostrils. “Sorry for _what_ , Tante?”

Emilie gave her a look. “I shouldn’t have even brought her up. I know you don’t like to talk about her.”

“Why _shouldn’t_ I like to talk about her?” Chloe scoffed, paying too-close attention to the clothes in her hands. “After all, she’s just my mother who doesn’t actually care about anyone but herself, who ignores me at the best of times and thinks I’m not good enough the rest of the time. Did you know I was missing the whole time she was last in Paris?” She looked back at Emilie, and Emilie could see her eyes shining. “I was abducted and tortured for a week, and as far as I can tell, she didn’t even notice. She didn’t even care about me enough for _that_.”

Emilie put a hand on Chloe’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “I’m so sorry, dear,” she whispered. “You have become such an incredible young woman in the last four years. If Audrey can’t bother to notice that, she doesn’t deserve you.” She felt Chloe’s anger deepen and twist, and she sighed. “And you’re not just angry at her, are you? You’re also angry at me for leaving you, too.”

Chloe gave her a look of hurt. “It’s just… I needed you. Mother was never there; it was only ever _you_. _You_ were the one who wanted to take me shopping. _You_ were the one who listened to me and answered all my dumb questions.”

Emilie nodded, feeling tears form in her own eyes. “I know. And I’m so very sorry, sweetheart. You thought you could rely on me, and I let you down. Believe me: I never wanted to leave you.”

Chloe made a noise between a sob and a cough, and Emilie pulled her into a tight hug. The girl sighed and relaxed into the embrace, resting her head on Emilie’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry I left you,” Emilie whispered. “I can’t imagine what the last four years have been like for you.”

Chloe snorted. “I suppose I can say one thing for Hawk Moth: I was never lacking for attention with half his Akumas coming after me…”

“A good incentive to be better, huh?” Emilie observed, smiling. Chloe nodded, shame clear in her emotions. “You don’t need to be ashamed of that, dear,” Emilie told her. “From what I saw on the Ladyblog, you recognized what it was that made them come after you – something you only picked up from Audrey – and you corrected it. You’re no longer the same girl who came to Adrien’s birthday before my… trip.”

Chloe frowned. “But if it hadn’t been for that, I wouldn’t have lost Pollen,” she replied sadly. “The only reason I revealed my identity to the world – what allowed Lynchpin to abduct me – was because I wanted Mother to be proud of me for something. And even _that_ wasn’t enough, by the way.”

Emilie smiled sympathetically. “You don’t need _her_ approval,” she told her. “You are already a better person than she will ever be, with or without a miraculous.” She snorted derisively. “Even losing your miraculous doesn’t make you bad or unworthy. Look at me: I lost _two_ miraculous, and you and everyone else had to live with the consequences.”

Chloe stared at her wide-eyed. “That wasn’t your fault, Aunt Emilie!”

“And losing your miraculous wasn’t your fault, either, dear,” Emilie assured her. “ _I_ don’t think any less of you since finding out what happened. I still stand by what I said: you are an amazing young woman and you have become an incredible hero.”

Chloe chuckled. “Marinette and Sabrina have said the same thing.”

“Then one of these days you’ll have to actually _listen_!”

“Fine.” Chloe pouted, though her anger and shame had disappeared. She glared at Emilie. “But if you leave me again, I really _will_ hate you!”

Emilie raised an eyebrow at her and chuckled. “Dear, you know I know you don’t mean that.”

Chloe shook her head and grumbled, “Damn empaths.”


	8. Sabrina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie meets with her other miraculous' new holder

Emilie chuckled to herself as the electric kettle sang on its side table and she poured the boiling water into the teapot sitting next to it. When they had first built this house and Gabriel suggested including a “mother-in-law suite” in the family wing of the house, she had simply smiled and rolled her eyes. After all, his parents were perfectly content out in the country, and her parents had no intention of leaving England, especially with Ammie’s recent marriage. Then her parents had been killed in a car accident when Adrien was ten, and she had figured this suite would go to waste except on the rare occasions that Amelie’s family came to visit.

Never in a million years had she thought _she_ would be moving into the mother-in-law suite. Certainly not before she turned 40, and _absolutely_ not before she was even technically a mother-in-law!

And yet, the idea of sleeping in the same room that she and Gabriel had shared since the Mansion was completed, knowing everything he had done in her name and with her family legacy for two years… she couldn’t face the man who had given her his name and a son. She certainly couldn’t face the daily reminders of him that would come from using his bedroom. For that matter, she could hardly stand the reminders that came with simply living in the same house they had built together.

She supposed that was probably why Adrien only spent about half his nights at the Mansion.

The first time Adrien had spent the night with the Dupain-Chengs, Emilie had been a little surprised, but now it didn’t phase her at all to find that Adrien wasn’t home in the morning – or else that Marinette was waiting for her at the breakfast table. As far as prospective daughters-in-law were concerned, Emilie knew she could do far worse than Marinette. And almost certainly could not ask for any better.

If only the girl didn’t panic whenever Emilie entered the room…

She poured two cups of tea and placed them on the sitting room’s coffee table just as she heard a knock on the suite door. Casting out her empathic net she sensed nervousness and a touch of fear… but also something familiar. She placed two plates of cookies on the table – one human-sized and the other Kwami-sized – and sat down in the armchair. Duusu grabbed a Kwami-sized cookie off the table and let out a contented sigh as he swallowed it whole. “It’s open,” Emilie called.

The door creaked open, and she recognized Sabrina standing in the doorway, Nooroo sitting on her shoulder with his wings fluttering against her hair. Emilie indicated for her to take a seat on the settee across from her. Sabrina sat down, her back ramrod straight, and cautiously picked up the teacup in front of her. Even without her miraculous to confirm it, Emilie could feel the nervousness rolling off of the girl in waves.

“Miss Sabrina!” squealed Duusu, fluttering away from the plate of cookies and hugging the girl’s cheek. Sabrina hesitantly hugged him back, stroking his feathers with one finger. “It’s so amazing to see you! And it’s so amazing to have Miss Emilie back! Everything is so amazing!” His face fell. “Unless it _isn’t_ amazing… What if things _don’t_ go well? What if–?”

Nooroo hissed at him, his narrowed eyes darting from Duusu to Sabrina to Emilie and back again. Duusu fell silent, his feathers drooping, and dropped down to return to the plate of Kwami-sized cookies, shoving another into his mouth, while Nooroo nuzzled further into Sabrina’s shoulder.

“Why are you so nervous?” asked Emilie, sipping her tea. “You’ve never been nervous around me before – or at least not when Chloe wasn’t around!” She stifled a gasp as she sensed a jolt of fear shoot through Sabrina. That was concerning: what did she have to be afraid of in here? Sabrina’s fear shifted to dread and shame. Was she upset with Emilie already? Suddenly she sensed embarrassment and guilt. What had the girl _done_!?!

_Wait…_

Emilie laughed in embarrassment. “I apologize, dear,” she finally confessed, taking a slow, calming breath and allowing her own calm and excitement for the visit to shine through in her emotions. In response, Sabrina’s emotions shifted to confusion, tinged with traces of hope. “It’s been so long since I had a conversation with another empath that I forgot how easy it is for us to fall into an emotional spiral.”

Sabrina swallowed hard, and Emilie sensed her confusion deepening. “What do you mean?”

“Our miraculous allow us to sense each other’s emotions, but not the thoughts accompanying them,” explained Emilie. “You can see how that can become a benefit to us, of course: when we know each other well – how the other one thinks – we will be able to communicate wordlessly based solely on our emotions.” Sabrina nodded. “But – and this can happen even without a miraculous – negative emotions can become contagious. When I sensed your fear and nervousness, I responded with my own confusion and fear, which you picked up on and reflected back to me. And suddenly a small twinge of nervousness spiraled into the end of the world. So perhaps we should try actually _talking_ about why we are feeling what we are feeling for now!”

Sabrina giggled sheepishly and helped herself to a cookie. “I guess I feel nervous right now because this miraculous was yours even before it was M. Agreste’s,” she admitted, indicating the brooch pinned to the front of her blouse. “So I’m worried that the reason you asked me over today was to take it back.”

Emilie allowed her surprise to show as she looked over at Nooroo, who still hadn’t moved from his position sitting protectively on Sabrina’s shoulder, his wings fluttering against her hair. “Why would I do a thing like that?” she asked. She smiled as warmly as she could. “Nooroo looks quite content with you, and from what I’ve heard I take it that you have been treating him far better than Gabriel ever did. Nooroo, do you want to stay with Sabrina?”

Nooroo nodded emphatically. “Absolutely, Mistress Emilie! Sabrina has been an exceptional mistress,” he assured her.

“If Nooroo is happy and you wish to continue with him, I see no reason to break up your partnership,” Emilie told Sabrina, smiling. Sabrina let out a relieved breath, and Nooroo finally left her shoulder to join Duusu on the half-empty plate of cookies.

Emilie smiled fondly as she watched the Kwamis. She had so rarely activated both Miraculous at once, and the two had only been together a handful of times since her mother finally relinquished the Butterfly Miraculous to her care. It was refreshing to see them sharing the cookies together. “At some point I do plan to have a _long_ conversation with Master Fu, but I have no desire to separate you from Nooroo. According to the Ladyblog, you have been quite the asset to Adrien and Marinette’s team!” She raised her teacup in a toast.

Sabrina blushed. “It’s not like I’ve done all that much,” she objected. “I’ve only really used a couple dozen Akumas all year.”

Emilie arched an eyebrow at her. “You and I both know there is far more to our miraculous than creating Akuma-helpers and sentimonster-protectors,” she replied, “even if the rest of your team doesn’t always recognize your usefulness.”

Sabrina nodded. “I have noticed that meetings go more smoothly the more attuned I am to the group’s emotions.”

“Exactly!” Emilie smiled. “I can’t begin to tell you how many of Gabriel’s design meetings would have turned into shouting matches if I hadn’t defused the situation before it could begin.” She turned serious. “I actually asked you over today so I could offer to train you to better harness the Butterfly Miraculous’ abilities, particularly with your empathy. Not because you aren’t doing well already, but because I… do have a few more years of experience than you!”

“Really?” Sabrina asked, eyes lighting up. “I would love to learn more!”

“My first question,” Emilie began. “Since you’ve had the miraculous for a year already and you weren’t _too_ young when you first received it, are you still getting headaches when you really tap into your empathic abilities?”

Sabrina shook her head. “It was really bad at first,” she admitted, “but Chloe was abducted by the Lynchpin over Spring Break, and I spent every waking moment that week sifting through a city’s-worth of emotions to find her. I was miserable the whole time, but that was the last time I actually got a headache. Since then the worst was on Heroes’ Day when I activated the Peacock to extend my empathic range and had it on a little too long.”

Emilie nodded. “That’s good: it means you’ve acclimated to the miraculous. It will take some time before you can access some of the miraculous’ stronger powers – eventually you’ll be able to give limited abilities with a touch in addition to creating a true Akuma – but the full range of your untransformed empathic abilities is at least available to you now. We can start with understanding the emotions that you sense to get a better idea of the nuances the others are unaware of themselves.”

“That would be super helpful!” Sabrina told her eagerly. “With those I’m closest to – Chloe and Max especially – it’s like I can tell exactly what they are thinking just by paying attention to their emotions. But it’s kind of hit-and-miss with everyone else.”

Emilie smiled encouragingly. “That’s a wonderful start! Since they can’t sense your emotions, the communication can only really go one way with them, but as the two of us get to know each other better, we may eventually be able to have entire conversations through our emotions, regardless of how far apart we are just as long as we’re in the same city. From there we can also work on methods for using your empathic ability to take your friends’ negative emotions on yourself. Sometimes I would imagine that Marinette or Chloe can allow their fear or anger or anxiety to overwhelm them.” Sabrina nodded ruefully. “Gabriel was the same way. While you can’t _force_ someone to feel a certain emotion, you can at least _relieve_ some of an emotion they are already feeling by taking it on yourself.”

Sabrina nodded in understanding. “There have been a few times I sensed Max or Marinette feeling upset or anxious, and I comforted them to help them calm down.”

“That’s a good first step,” Emilie told her. “What we’re talking about is like that, but taking it to a higher level. Think of the emotion like a box full of stones. What you have been doing is putting your arm around them to support them while they hold the box. But instead of supporting _them_ while they hold the box, I can train you how to remove some of the stones _from_ the box and hold onto them yourself.”

Sabrina sat back in surprise.

“I don’t think you’re there just yet, dear,” Emilie added quickly. “It takes a lot of discipline to do that. But for now I think we can work on improving a technique that I hope Nooroo has already taught you: how to process negative emotions – both your own and those in the air around you.”

“That was one of the first things he taught me,” Sabrina agreed, grinning. “But I can’t wait to learn more!”


	9. Fu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last two members of the Asian Order of the Guardians have a _lot_ to discuss...

“Let me get this straight: you gave my son the Miraculous of _Destruction_ at the ripe old age of _fourteen_ , and then proceeded to practically _ignore_ him for two years!?!” Emilie stared at the small elderly man in front of her in utter disbelief.

“I was watching both him and Marinette from a distance while they adapted to their miraculous’ powers,” Master Fu defended. He refilled his own teacup and offered more to her, which she grudgingly accepted. Fu had invited her to visit him in the room where he was staying in the Mansion, which was furnished rather spartanly, with two simple twin beds, two wooden chairs, and an old wooden side table holding his tea set.

Emilie shook her head. “You didn’t think they could use _guidance_? _Training_? _Advice_? I chose my miraculous at that age also, but my mother took some time every day to teach me about the miraculous and their capabilities!” She scoffed. “You know, if things had turned out differently, Adrien _would_ have received a miraculous at that age,” she told him. “But he would not have been so woefully unprepared for the responsibility it presented!”

“If things had turned out differently,” Fu pointed out, “Adrien would not have been called into battle against a villain who was using the Butterfly Miraculous for evil.”

Emilie scowled darkly, and Duusu let out a shuddering gasp and shot away, phasing straight through the floor and rocketing off in the direction of the Heroes’ Headquarters. “I would never have imagined that Gabriel would do what he did with the miraculous in my care,” she seethed, anger flashing in her eyes. “If I had it to do over again, perhaps I would have told Adrien much sooner. Perhaps I would have given the Butterfly to Amelie instead of keeping it in a box in my closet. Perhaps I would have at least left instructions for Ammie in case something happened to me. So yes, I can admit that I bear some blame for Gabriel’s actions.” She paused a moment and fixed him with a withering glare. “But _don’t_ try to tell me that leaving my son in the dark to fumble around with one of the most powerful miraculous in _existence_ was the way the old Order of the Guardians operated,” she added, pointing a finger at him accusingly. “The Dupain-Chengs may have accepted that explanation, but _I_ know better!”

Fu let out a resigned sigh, his emotions turning to shame. “You are correct,” he admitted. “The old Order of the Guardians would not have acted the way I did. In the old days a guardian would have taken the newly-chosen holder under his wings from the beginning to teach him or her how to use the miraculous if it was to be given long-term. In the past I did act in that way. However, this time I did not believe I _could_ take that risk: I did not know who Hawk Moth was, and I could not risk more miraculous falling into the wrong hands. Believing myself to be the only surviving Guardian from our Order, I could not allow myself to become compromised by someone who knew about and was even then _misusing_ a miraculous which had been lost from our set.”

Emilie sighed, nodding in acceptance. “I suppose if that had happened, the same thing could have happened with _your_ miraculous as happened with mine,” she allowed. “Though Nana Beth mentioned the procedure in her journal, she herself never used it. None of my ancestors really faced this kind of situation: with only two miraculous at their disposal, they exclusively reserved them for family members to hold and used them to help people from the shadows.”

Fu nodded. “And from what I gather, they did an admirable job with what they had. By all accounts your grandfather served honorably during World War II,” he acknowledged, raising his teacup in acknowledgement. “According to Nooroo, the Maquis may not have won some crucial victories in the buildup to D-Day had he not provided them with his support.”

She shook her head in amazement. “I still cannot believe that you were so close to him but did not cross paths.”

“I fled to England as soon as the Nazis reached Paris,” Fu explained. “I had heard from my contacts in Germany that Hitler was interested in arcane magical artifacts – I could only assume that meant they were after me and the Miracle Box. Marianne stayed here to fight, but I had to protect the Box. I only deemed it safe to return to France after the Nazis were officially defeated. By then I understand your grandfather had ceased his more overt activities and returned to hiding.”

Emilie nodded and pursed her lips. “Perhaps that is another time things could have turned out differently, had your Fox and the Hound met Le Maquillon or any of his helpers after D-Day.”

“Perhaps.”

Emilie sat back and sipped her now-lukewarm tea while examining Fu. Based on his story and the legend her mother had told her, as well as Nana Beth’s writings, _Fu himself_ was the novice who rescued Nana Beth in the snow, so many years ago. To think that after all this time she would meet another Guardian – a remnant of the original Order of the Guardians she had read about in Nana Beth’s journal, no less. And therein lay the problem. “We can’t ignore the issue forever,” she finally stated, and he nodded reluctantly. “Where do we go from here?”

“I do not think we should separate the Butterfly and Peacock from their set again,” Fu began, eyeing her carefully.

Emilie nodded slowly. “Both Nooroo and Duusu are happy to be back with their brothers and sisters,” she agreed. “Nooroo seems especially content with his new holder.” She allowed herself a small smile: to think that little Sabrina, the girl she only remembered as Chloe’s meek shadow, would take to the Butterfly Miraculous with such aplomb! “And yet,” she added, “this responsibility has been a great part of my life – of my family, really – for almost two centuries. It is a legacy that I had hoped to pass on to Adrien when he was of age.”

“I had begun training Marinette as my replacement Guardian before Hawk Moth’s defeat,” Fu replied.

“Not both of them together?” Emilie frowned. “The Grimoire seems very clear: the Cat and Ladybug operate best when they are together and their holders are in sync, without placing artificial barriers between them. And in any event is it really wise to put so much on one teenager? There were times I felt overwhelmed by the responsibility of _two_ miraculous, let alone the nineteen in the full set, to say nothing of the additional miraculous they have acquired recently!” She nodded to the burnt-orange Narwhal Kwami, Kheaa, who was resting on the shelf above Fu’s bed. “And I was in _University_ before my mother fully relinquished the responsibility to me!”

Fu furrowed his brow in thought. “Perhaps it is time to return to something closer to what was lost,” he admitted. “More guardians would spread the responsibility – something which I think Marinette and Adrien have already done by bringing more of their team into the fold and sharing the load with them.”

“How have they managed since Gabriel’s defeat?”

“I was away for much of the year researching your condition–”

“–For which I am very grateful,” Emilie interrupted, giving him a small smile.

Fu dipped his head in acknowledgement and gave her a smile in return. “After everything Adrien went through, this was the least I could do as repayment. And while I was away, by all accounts they performed admirably, both as holders and as guardians-in-training.”

“Then I think the best thing we can do for them is to allow them to continue as they have, and to stay out of their way but remain available to give them advice when needed,” Emilie suggested.

“I believe that is a wise compromise,” Fu agreed readily. Emilie sensed relief from him which shifted into cautious hope. “Now that we have more of a permanent residence here, as well as the full set together – minus the Bee – perhaps _together_ the two of us may begin to rebuild the Asian Order of the Guardians – though it may take several generations before the Order returns to what it once was. It was very generous of your son to give over so much of your Mansion to the Heroes of Paris.”

Emilie gave a small smile and breathed a sigh of relief. “It doesn’t surprise me in the least,” she replied. “Adrien has always been kindhearted and generous to a fault, and from what I can tell this year has just given him more and more opportunities to put that in practice.” She frowned. “I only wish it hadn’t come at the cost of four years of his childhood.”

Fu nodded sadly, tears in his eyes as he met her gaze. Emilie could feel guilt and grief building in him. “I hope you will believe me when I say that I truly did not wish to foist such an awesome responsibility on either Adrien or Marinette at such a young age.”

Emilie smiled and nodded in acceptance. She chuckled. “And yet, here we are: my son went from barely-a-teen to engaged, running the family company, _and_ a Miraculous Guardian in the space of about fifteen minutes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those keeping score at home, this does mean there were at least a dozen Miraculous users active during World War II – all of them (so far) on the Allies’ side… except for Night Bat, who was manipulating the Nazis behind the scenes. Fu’s Fox and Hound (Fox and Dog respectively), Emilie’s grandfather Le Maquillon (Butterfly), and Mira’s grandmother Columba (Dove) were all involved in different ways on the European Front. And a group of American Miraculous Heroes joined the Allies on the Pacific Front.
> 
> Why did Fu choose the Fox and Dog to fight in World War II instead of the Ladybug and Cat? Partly because of what they could do. Partly because he’s not going to hand out the two most powerful miraculous in existence without a really good reason! So what does it say that he would consider Hawk Moth a greater threat than Hitler?
> 
> I’m going to hold off on continuing “The Woman Out of the Fridge” for now. The next logical chapter is one I haven’t written yet (I only got the idea yesterday), and Fu and Emilie agreeing to rebuild the Order of the Guardians together is a good lead-in to where Emilie is in “It Came from Outer Space.” Tomorrow I’ll publish another “Life and Times” one-shot, then “Outer Space” will start on Monday! We’ll return to “Fridge” in about 2 weeks.


	10. Australia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie, Adrien, and Marinette visit the Australian Miraculous Temple-Island for the big Miraculous Meeting. While there, they see some of the sights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t going to even include this at first, but I imagine there were at least a few questions about the large Guardians meeting in Australia (as well as what the Australian Miraculous Temple-Island is like). Australia factors into a “Life and Times” one-shot as a follow-up to “It Came from Outer Space,” but this seems like as good a place as any to share some of the trip itself!
> 
> If you are confused, “It Came from Outer Space” [chapter 1](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26969224/chapters/65826298) explained that the leaders of the four Miraculous teams all gathered at the Australian Miraculous Temple-Island for a meeting. This included the holders of the two primary miraculous in each set, as well as a Guardian. At the moment Fu is otherwise occupied, so Emilie attended to represent the Asian Guardians.

Walking alongside her son and future daughter-in-law down the wide main avenue of New Atlantis, Emilie could already feel herself starting to become drained. Although she had been awake for a while now – and had been in remarkably good health before that ill-fated trip to Tibet – she had discovered that she tired much faster these days. Physical therapy had helped her rebuild the muscle mass she had lost, and meditation exercises (both on her own and with either Fu or Pedro) had helped her to rebalance her chi. But neither of those could really substitute for simple _physical endurance_. Were it not for the pleasant surroundings – to say nothing of the positive emotions pouring off of her companions – she would probably have stayed at the meeting hall during this midmorning break.

Of course, even at the meeting hall she might have been overwhelmed by the sheer _otherness_ of New Atlantis. This entire trip, everything she saw and everyone she met put her even further out of the cozy, simple understanding of the miraculous that she had learned from her mother as a teenager. The previous morning, she had met with the representatives of the other Orders of Guardians – Farah from the African Order, Ramon from the American Order, and Joanna, Fu’s friend who represented the Australian Order. She had been surprised to learn that, of the four of them, she was the only one who regularly held a miraculous. But the other three had accepted her readily enough, and they had spent several hours discussing how the other three groups could assist in rebuilding the Temple in Tibet. Emilie had almost been overwhelmed with gratitude to them for their offers of assistance… although she herself had little desire to see Tibet again!

For now, Emilie was simply enjoying the opportunity to see the Australian Temple-Island.

“Isn’t this just _amazing_?” cooed Duusu, his tail feathers rustling against Emilie’s back. He waved happily to a light yellow Kwami that had just flown past them. “It takes me back to Atlantis!”

“I’m not surprised,” replied their guide, a young Australian holder named Dane. “The Atlantean refugees who first settled this island tried to replicate what they had lost as best they could.”

Ikuu, his royal blue Kwami, swished his bulbous tail and added, “Those first years were difficult, but they persevered. Of course, having three members of the Sorcerers Guild come with them helped.”

Emilie looked around at the buildings lining the road. To their left was an imposing bleached white stone structure with a row of brown columns supporting the overhanging roof. As they passed she examined the columns more closely and was surprised to see that they weren’t perfectly uniform in shape: small cracks seemed to run along the columns in a crisscross pattern, meandering around little knots set at uneven intervals around the columns.

“Admiring the petrified columns of the Miraculous Temple?” asked Ikuu, fluttering over to float next to Emilie’s head.

She scratched him between the tiny horns on his head and nodded. “What are they made of?”

“Stone, now,” he replied, grinning. “Originally they were trees, but the Guardians stripped them of their bark and branches, placed them to support the building, and then used the combination of my Earth and Wind powers to flash-petrify them. There is little stone suitable for building material on the island, so they had to make do with what was available if any structures were to endure.”

“There’s such a fusion of different styles here!” Marinette observed, pointing at a building across the street with a circular roof set atop a copse of living trees.

“Webb’s influence,” Ikuu joked, laughing and swishing his tail.

“The Temple is the oldest structure on the island; everything else that’s still standing was built later,” explained Dane. “When the Atlanteans started to dwindle, they had to begin recruiting from the indigenous peoples, all of whom brought their own unique culture to the island.” He pointed off to a hill north of the city with two towers on top and a smaller hall at the base of the hill. “That’s Dingo Hill. Pupp, the Dingo Kwami, visits there a lot; his first indigenous holder fought off a raiding party from one of the other tribes living in the islands on top of that hill before the Guardians established the wards which surround the entire island, and today her descendents live in one of the towers.”

“It kind of looks like a dingo’s head,” Adrien commented.

“It’s a trick of the architecture: giving significance to geographic formations,” Dane replied. He led them past more buildings with that same fusion design, pointing out the headquarters for their small Sorcerers’ Guild, the library, and even a pair of workshops for producing textiles. Finally they arrived in front of the central meeting hall, a two-story circular building with a round slanted roof set atop a circle of petrified columns. The rest of New Atlantis spread out from here along streets which had been laid in a spoke pattern extending from the square surrounding this building as the hub of a wheel.

They were just about to walk inside when a young woman with dark skin approached from one of the other streets, waving to them. A bright yellow Kwami with an orange mane floated next to her head. “You wouldn’t believe what you can find in the outdoor market!” Mihaela told them, grinning in exhilaration. “There are all kinds of rock paintings and hand-painted textiles to see.”

“Ooh!” Marinette cooed eagerly. “I have to see the textiles!” She looked at her watch and frowned. “But we don’t have time now.”

Mihaela shrugged. “Perhaps after dinner.”

“Where are the others?” asked Adrien, looking around at the otherwise deserted court.

“Farah went to look for food, and I think Ramon was going to join him,” replied Mihaela.

“Keppi was curious about the farm just outside of the city,” supplied Kibbu, the Lion Kwami. She laughed. “Leave it to a _bug_ to go rooting around in the dirt!”

Duusu giggled shrilly. Emilie felt a twinge of annoyance from Marinette and stifled her own amusement.

At that moment a small group of Kwamis flew up from the far side of the meeting hall – Tikki, Atsaa, and Mettli were supporting Plagg between them, with Hopp, the Kangaroo Kwami, bringing up the rear. For his part, Plagg was moaning, his ears drooping. Emilie frowned on seeing the unusual sight, but relaxed when she sensed more amusement than concern from Tikki.

“What happened to him?” asked Adrien, holding out a hand to catch his Kwami. Plagg curled up in a tiny ball on his palm, his paws resting on his stomach

Tikki stifled a giggle. “He decided to try every single type of cheese on the island,” she reported.

“He was fine for the first dozen,” Atsaa added, smacking Plagg on the back. Plagg let out a belch and glared at the Eagle Kwami.

“I would have been fine if it weren’t for that Tarantula Cheese,” Plagg retorted, rubbing his stomach. “That had more _kick_ to it than anything I’ve had before!”

“What were you _expecting_?” Mettli demanded incredulously. “It was kangaroo milk curdled with actual tarantula venom!”

“So was it good?” Adrien asked, laughing.

“It’s considered a delicacy,” Hopp replied. She giggled shrilly. “Although most people only take a _taste_ , not the whole _wheel_ …”

Plagg groaned. “Let’s just say that if you need to transform any time soon, your Cataclysm might have a little extra _bite_ to it!”

The Australian Guardian Joanna, a kindly woman with grey hair who was old enough to be Emilie’s mother, emerged from the entrance to the meeting all and walked over to their group. Emilie gave her a warm smile in greeting. “Did you enjoy your walk?” Joanna asked, holding a hand out for Emilie to lean on.

Emilie gratefully took her arm, smiled back, and chuckled. “This entire island is one of the most incredible places I have ever seen!” she replied as they led the way into the meeting hall. “So much of my life I thought I was alone, that my two were the only surviving miraculous. But now…” She spread her arm to encompass the island. “There is so much more to this than I could ever have imagined!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter almost ended up in “The Life and Times of the Heroes of Europe” since it strays so far afield from the more intimate feel of “The Woman out of the Fridge.” The reason I decided to keep it here is because this is a good next step for Emilie to take after she and Fu agreed in the last chapter to work together in rebuilding the Asian Order of the Guardians: part of that entails expanding her world to see just how much more there is to the miraculous. That does mean there are a lot of cameos in this chapter. New/returning characters:
> 
> Ikuu is the Anklyosaur Kwami.
> 
> Mihaela is the Lion Miraculous holder (Kibbu is the Lion Kwami); Keppi is the Scarab Kwami (his holder’s name is Yousef, who appeared in both “Subjecting a God” and “The Battle for the Seine”). They are the two primary miraculous holders in the African Miraculous Set.
> 
> Mettli and Atsaa are the Wolf and Eagle Kwamis, and their holders are Julia and Pablo (Marco’s parents). Theirs are the primary miraculous in the American Miraculous Set.
> 
> The Kangaroo Miraculous (Hopp) is the primary miraculous in the Australian Miraculous Set.
> 
> Joanna is the granddaughter of Fu’s first Australian contact, the one mentioned in “A Miraculous Adventure in Tibet” who helped him discover how to revive Emilie.


	11. Training with Sabrina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this was inspired by bryguy2324 (on FF.net), who noted that the first time Emilie transforms is bound to be nerve-wracking since the miraculous was previously broken (and it hurt Nathalie every time she used it, and Sabrina passed out the one time she unified it with the Butterfly!). Considering what happens in the next chapter, this really needed to happen first!

The morning after returning from Australia, Emilie met Sabrina in the Mansion’s entrance hall, a cup of strong tea in her hand to help combat the “portal lag” and Duusu resting comfortably on her shoulder. She found Sabrina admiring a tapestry showing blue and violet lines descending out of a confusion of black, green, brown, and white. The lines interweaved together through layer after layer of different colors, always running parallel, until the blue line disappeared into a black dot and the violet turned to indigo. Something about the coloration had drawn Emilie’s attention the moment she had first laid eyes on it; it wasn’t until last night that Adrien had finally explained the symbolism Marinette had worked into all the tapestry designs, and specifically this one.

She sincerely hoped the next tapestry Marinette designed would show her family legacy _after_ Hawk Moth…

“Good morning Mme Agreste!” Sabrina called cheerfully.

“‘Emilie’ is fine, dear,” she replied, pulling the girl into a brief hug and smiling. “Though perhaps ‘Teacher’ or ‘Master’ is more appropriate at the moment!” She led the way up the stairs to the office, where they rode the elevator down to the Heroes’ Headquarters together. In the weeks since she had woken up from her coma, Emilie had only been down a handful of times, preferring the natural sunlight available upstairs to the artificial lights keeping the plants alive.

“No one has been able to give me a good answer yet: has this always been here?” Sabrina asked as the elevator descended below the cave ceiling and Hawk Moth’s repurposed lair came into view.

Emilie nodded. “We found the cave while we were building the mansion,” she explained, “but it looked nothing like this. After we shored up the foundation so it wouldn’t collapse into here, I had thought about doing something with the cave, but we never got around to it. Gabriel must have built it up after my accident.”

Sabrina stepped off the elevator plate and sighed in contentment, plucking a flower from the butterfly garden and holding it up for Nooroo to smell. “I enjoy coming down here,” she confided. “It’s so peaceful – especially by comparison with the upstairs, with so many others staying at the mansion currently.”

Nooroo fluttered his wings and took off from Sabrina’s shoulder, spinning around in a back-flip. “I used to hate this place,” he admitted softly, his antennae drooping. “It was a prison. But, then, _everywhere_ was a prison with Master Gabriel.”

“I’m sorry,” Sabrina apologized. She held out a hand for the Kwami to land on, where Duusu presently joined Nooroo. “I should have realized. But why didn’t you say something?”

Nooroo gave her a surprised look. “My Master never gave me a choice in where I went.” He laughed gently. “Since he left, it has lost much of its gloom. Your emotions here are normally far brighter than his ever were.”

Sabrina smiled, and Emilie felt the glow of her pride and gratitude. From the far side of the cave she could also feel two sets of positive emotions in the lab. “I suppose I know _another_ reason you enjoy spending time down here…” she teased, smiling impishly when Sabina’s cheeks reddened.

“Miss Sabrina is so amazing, I just love feeling the emotions when she and Max are working together!” Duusu enthused, giggling shrilly.

Sabrina coughed into her hand in embarrassment and led the way to the grotto, where Emilie could just barely see the remains of drag marks in the dirt. “I started using this more regularly when I realized just how much it amplifies empathic abilities,” Sabrina explained. “Since Taureau Dechaine moved the cryo chamber out, there’s so much more space!”

Emilie looked closer at the grotto walls, running a finger along a fine crystalline rod barely visible under the plaster, and nodded. “The Grimoire describes how specific structures, imbued with chi, can enhance the empathic range of our miraculous,” she told her. “My grandfather had a trio of stones in his study which performed a similar function, allowing him to direct events throughout the French countryside during the War.” She closed her eyes to tap into the rods lining the walls. “Gabriel didn’t imbue these rods at all; what you have experienced before now has just been the natural enhancement of the structure. If we do imbue it with chi together, the effect will be far stronger!”

Along the wall Emilie noticed a small pile of reed mats next to a coffeemaker and the small wooden table on which the mostly-empty Miracle Box sat. Sabrina selected two of the mats. “Set them opposite each other in the center of the grotto,” Emilie instructed her, pointing. She sat down on one of the mats and assumed the lotus position; opposite her, Sabrina copied the posture. Nooroo and Duusu dropped to sit back-to-back between them in the newly-planted grass, facing their respective holders. Emilie fixed Sabrina with a calm look and held her hands out, palms facing up. “Today we will practice techniques for recognizing and understanding the emotions that you sense. Your miraculous can act as an antenna, passively receiving the emotions in the atmosphere; you can also sift through those emotions to feel what the people around you are feeling. However, this can become very overwhelming.”

Sabrina nodded seriously. “The one time I unified the Butterfly and Peacock, I got completely lost in the emotions I was sensing!”

“The techniques I teach you will help you sift through those emotions better,” Emilie explained. She chuckled. “Hopefully next time you are called upon to unify the miraculous, you won’t get lost in the subconscious of the first person you sense!” She took a slow deep breath and closed her eyes. A twinge of anxiety passed through her. This grotto was where she had spent the last four years, suspended in time in a coma. She inhaled again, deeply, and held her breath for several long moments before releasing it through her nose. The anxiety remained, but had lessened. She could feel Sabrina’s excitement, mingled with calm and contentedness, and allowed herself to become caught up in the excitement of her student. Although she had spent long years asleep in this very place, she was now awake and aware and could leave at any time. With another calming breath, Emilie released the rest of her anxiety into the atmosphere.

“As you breathe, slowly and deeply,” Emilie said, “focus on your chi – that’s the energy within every living creature. Your chi is affected by your physical, mental, and emotional state, and it will both strengthen you and allow you to affect those around you. It is through your chi that you access your miraculous’ full potential. Your chi is a vast ocean, waiting just below the surface for you to use it.” As she spoke, Emilie reached her hand into the ocean of pale yellow chi before her and sighed as it diffused throughout her body, relieving some of the strain still remaining from her years in the coma – her chi had been so bright before Tibet, and it saddened her to see its pallor. And yet it had begun to brighten since she started meditating with Fu and Pedro on a regular basis; already it had gained more of a glow. Across from her, she felt Sabrina shiver. She smiled warmly. “It’s a funny feeling the first time you tune in to it, isn’t it?”

Sabrina nodded, humming quietly.

“Now focus on your own emotional state,” Emilie instructed. “Your own emotions – positive and negative – can distract you from those around you. Allow whatever you are feeling to dissipate into the atmosphere. Your emotions are still there, but muted so you can sense those around you.” She released a breath and expanded her senses outward. Across from her, she could feel Sabrina’s excitement easing. “Now expand your senses outward. Feel my emotions, then Max and Victor in the lab, and then spread from there to feel everyone else who is in the mansion with us right now.”

“I can sense Max’s eagerness,” Sabrina reported. “Marco is excited; Lise is amused.”

“Good!” Emilie praised, allowing a touch of pride into her emotions and feeling an answering surge of gratitude from Sabrina. “Now it is time to transform.” As Sabrina obediently whispered her transformation phrase – “Nooroo, Bright wings rise” – Emilie paused. The last time she had transformed, she had done so to save Duusu from being swallowed by that black monster – she now knew it was called “the Maw” – and that had ended in utter disaster. Her miraculous had been damaged in the fight, and she had lost the last four years of her life. And the two people who had used the miraculous since then had both suffered their own negative consequences. According to the kids, Nathalie’s health had deteriorated due to her time as Mayura – had they not stopped her, she would eventually have ended in the same magical coma Emilie had experienced. And Sabrina had passed out after transforming _once_.

What if the miraculous were still damaged? Intellectually she knew the question to be moot – Fu had described the process in excruciating detail during one of their sessions – but it still persisted. Duusu flew up to nuzzle against her cheek, giving her his own reassurance – he could sense that his miraculous was whole again. Emilie felt a surge of emotion from Sabrina and whispered, “Duusu, Spread my feathers.” As the familiar blue light engulfed her, she opened her eyes. Sabrina – Impératrice Pourpre – sat across from her in her simple knee-length dress of light purple over silver leggings. Her own somewhat more elegant miraculous suit had taken much the same form as last time: a sky-blue ankle-length gown with pink shoulder-sleeves and a train of peacock feathers, her miraculous pinned in the center of her chest. Over the top half of her face she could feel the same pink masquerade mask she remembered, clasped in the back with a bunch of peacock feathers woven into her hair. She found her fan at her side and opened it, reveling in the familiar feeling. She let out a relieved breath and smiled.

La Paonne was back!


	12. Amelie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins have a _lot_ of catching up to do...

As the portal generator in the Heroes’ Headquarters whirred to life, Emilie found herself thinking about how different her life now was than everything she had known about the miraculous before her trip to Tibet. Her Grimoire included pictures of all the other miraculous in the Asian set, but she had thought that hers were the only two miraculous still in existence, that the rest of the Asian set had been lost forever in the destruction of their temple. And then on her trip to Australia she had discovered just how many other miraculous were out there, scattered all around the world. And that trip had only been possible because of the Horse Miraculous. She had studied the pictures in the Grimoire showing Voyage in action, but had never dreamed that she might have the opportunity to experience it. Or, for that matter, that someone would create a technological version of the Horse Miraculous’ Voyage ability.

If she had ever doubted that Adrien and his friends knew what they were doing in guarding the miraculous, this right here put her mind at ease.

Of course, were it not for the portal, Emilie might never have traveled again, definitely not to Australia and probably not even to return to England – certainly not through the Chunnel. While she had no memories of her four years in a coma, her subconscious still plagued her with nightly dreams involving enclosed tubes. More often than she cared to admit, she woke up from one such dream in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, Duusu curled up on her chest with his tail feathers fanned in a soothing gesture. All told, the ability to take a portal to England was something _else_ she had to thank Ammie for.

The portal opened, and Emilie looked into an unused back sitting room of the house where she and Amelie had grown up, where Amelie and Felix now lived. And standing right in front of the portal with her hands clasped in front of herself was Amelie. It didn’t take miraculous empathy for Emilie to recognize the wide range of emotions warring behind her twin’s eyes.

Emilie stepped hesitantly through the portal – strangely it felt no different from stepping across a door’s lintel – and threw her arms around Amelie’s neck as the portal closed. Amelie held her tightly and burst into tears, burying her face in Emilie’s shoulder. Emilie herself couldn’t hold back her own tears on feeling the raw grief and relief and joy pouring off of Amelie in waves. A chaise sat against the far wall, and Emilie carefully guided them in that direction to sit down. She ran her fingers soothingly through Amelie’s hair while Amelie continued to sob into her shoulder.

After what felt like hours, Amelie sat up and wiped away her tears and smudged mascara on the back of a kerchief before carefully pouring two cups of tea. Emilie withdrew her own cloth to do the same, thankful she had thought ahead enough to use run-proof makeup that morning. Duusu flew out of Emilie’s purse and helped himself to a mini scone. Amelie gave the Kwami a small smile and pat on the head in greeting. Duusu preened happily at the attention.

Emilie stared into the depths of her teacup for a minute before whispering, “I’m sorry.”

The sudden jolt of surprise brought her eyes up to meet Amelie’s. “What do _you_ have to be sorry about, Emmie?”

Emilie frowned sadly. “What _don’t_ I have to be sorry for?” she asked rhetorically. “I disappeared on you. Gabriel evidently cut you out of his and Adrien’s lives. Then I wake up and find out you lost me _and_ Robert in less than a year.”

Amelie’s lower lip trembled. Emilie could feel the buried grief, hiding where she had refused to acknowledge it, bubbling back to the surface. “We knew it was coming,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, the teacup shaking in her hands. “But we didn’t know it would happen so soon. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry.”

Emilie put her hand on Amelie’s and squeezed gently. “I’m so sorry. I could tell something was going on. I should have been here with you when it happened,” she told her, feeling the tears in her eyes. “Instead, I just added to your grief. Nothing in Tibet was worth the cost.”

Amelie nodded curtly, her eyes clenching shut tightly. She took several slow, calming breaths, and Emilie could feel her pushing that old grief to the side. After a minute she opened her eyes and gave Emilie a weak smile. “Thank you. I’m just glad to have you back finally.”

“I would have come to visit sooner, but… I–I was ashamed,” Emilie admitted, looking away.

“Ashamed?”

Emilie sighed. “Adrien told me he explained some of the family history to you and Felix before they healed me.”

Amelie nodded, pursing her lips. “I admit I was upset that you had hid something this important from me.”

“Momma said there could only be one Guardian,” explained Emilie, her voice trembling. “Both of us couldn’t be guardians, so it had to just be me–”

“I know, I know, ‘Twelve minutes,’” interrupted Amelie, rolling her eyes.

“The best twelve minutes of my life,” Emilie teased.

Amelie grinned mischievously. “Don’t you mean the ‘worst’?”

Emilie leaned over and rested her head on Amelie’s shoulder. “Probably,” she admitted seriously. Amelie’s emotions betrayed surprise at that. Emilie was silent for a minute before she continued. “Momma said I had to be the next Guardian, but I should have pushed back anyways. It was a mistake for only me and Momma and Poppa to know about the miraculous. Especially after they–after–” Her voice broke. “After we lost them… I should have been the one to tell you myself. If I had – if you had known everything – maybe _you_ could have stopped Gabriel from doing what he did. Maybe then Adrien wouldn’t have had to be the one to do it. In a way, all of this – Hawk Moth – it’s _my_ fault.”

Amelie wrapped her arms around Emilie and ran her fingers through her hair. “I forgive you,” she whispered soothingly. “I’m not about to hold the past against you when I only _just_ got you back.”

Emilie sighed and hugged Amelie back tightly. “Thank you,” she murmured, sniffling. She sat back and looked her in the eye. “I do want to correct that mistake now, though,” she told her. “If you are willing, I want you involved in guarding the miraculous with me moving forward.” She nodded to the portal. “Thank you for putting that in – I don’t want to go this long between visits ever again!”

“Your kids made it surprisingly affordable,” Amelie joked, a twinkle in her eye. “Although I’m disappointed they won’t let us just use it all the time to visit Paris!”

“That could get suspicious,” Emilie noted wryly. “Though you have a standing invitation to come over for tea – and we can’t use distance as an excuse for not seeing each other all the time anymore!” She smiled kindly. “I’m glad Marinette gave Felix a miraculous, and that Adrien has one – even if they’re not the ones our family guarded for 170 years!”

“Barkk is quite the affectionate little thing,” Amelie observed with a chuckle. “I’ll miss her when Felix returns to school next week.”

“I’m so glad Barkk has a new holder!” gushed Duusu, clapping his paws in happiness. “She was so _bored_ staying in the Miracle Box all the time!”

“So are you here to give _me_ a miraculous?” teased Amelie, an amused lilt to her voice.

Emilie arched an eyebrow. “Do you want one?”

Amelie sat back in surprise. “It’s tempting,” she admitted. “I do worry about Felix every time he leaves by himself. But I’ve watched your kids from afar for three years, and I’ve seen Felix running off nightly to do the same – he’s facing nothing on the same level as Paris, at least – and I don’t think I really want to be out running around on rooftops with them.”

Emilie smiled. “We can leave the superheroics to the kids,” she agreed. “But Guardians don’t need to hold miraculous themselves; ordinarily a Guardian would just distribute the miraculous and guide their holders, instead of using the miraculous themselves. Master Fu and I are going to start rebuilding the Asian Order of the Guardians, but we need more than just the two of us. Would you be interested in joining us – in joining _me_ – as a Guardian of the Miraculous?”

Amelie’s eyes widened. “I will have to think about that,” she finally answered hesitantly.

Emilie nodded. “Take all the time you need.” She pulled a well-worn leather-bound journal out of her purse. “In the meantime, this was Nana Beth’s diary,” she explained. “She was the original Guardian in our family, and she wrote down all of her experiences in Tibet in this book – how she found the temple, how she trained to become a Guardian, how she escaped its destruction, and how she vowed to protect the Peacock and Butterfly and use them to help others.”

Amelie stared at the book wide-eyed and carefully accepted it, running a hand along the cover reverently. “So _this_ is our real family legacy?” she asked in amazement.

Emilie nodded. “If you would like, I also have Pépé’s memoir of his time helping the Maquis during World War II.” She laughed. “Perhaps some time Barkk can tell us about her _own_ World War II experiences – she also had a holder who fought in the War, but he was on the front lines. About a year before my accident I finally scanned everything I have of our family legacy, so I can give you the whole history digitally. This is our legacy – both the highs and the lows.”

Amelie gently opened the journal and flipped through the yellowed pages, holding it a little away from herself to keep her tears from falling on the book. Emilie smiled in contentment at feeling the gratitude pouring from her sister. Carefully she removed the peacock fan brooch from the front of her blouse. At the movement Amelie looked up from the first page of the diary, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Duusu and I talked about it last night,” Emilie explained, holding the miraculous out to her, “and we agreed that you deserve a chance to really visit with him and find out more of the story from him directly – his stories about Mémé are absolutely amazing! At some point I may have to persuade my little protégé to give you the same opportunity with Nooroo, but for now…”

“I… I don’t know what to say, Emmie,” whispered Amelie, taking the brooch and pinning it to the front of her tea dress and let out an involuntary gasp – Emilie could sympathize: empathy could be overwhelming at first. Duusu flew up to nuzzle Amelie’s cheek, and she cupped her hand around the Kwami. The look she gave Emilie was one of pure gratitude.

Emilie grinned impishly. “You could try, ‘Thank you, most amazing sister in the world. I promise to return your miraculous in a week or so!’”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a good place to pause “The Woman out of the Fridge” for the next multi-chapter story, “The Hound and the Maiden,” in which Amelie starts out with the Peacock Miraculous! Emilie will make a cameo appearance in that story.


	13. Breakfast with Adrien

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie has breakfast with her son

The Saturday before school would begin for the year, Emilie arrived in the dining room a little before eight to find Adrien still sitting at one end of the main dining table, nursing a cup of coffee with a croissant in one hand. Plagg was lounging on a tea saucer with a cheese pastry, breaking off tiny pieces and placing them slowly into his mouth, humming in delight with each bit.

“You know, kid,” Plagg observed, “a Kwami could get used to this kind of treatment.” He swallowed. “Not that it’s any less than I deserve, of course. After all, you know why the ancient Egyptians worshiped cats?”

“Is the answer going to be disa- _brie_ -able?” Adrien asked, chuckling.

“You’d _better_ not be dissing my brie!” Plagg retorted with a smirk.

“You’ve been obsessed with cheese since the Pleistocene Age!” Duusu scoffed, flying away from Emilie to land on the table next to Plagg.

“Are you saying my cheese isn’t _gouda_ -nough for you?” Plagg asked, eyes lighting up mischievously.

“Save it for Dorreen,” Adrien told him, grinning. “Good morning, Mom!” he called happily, starting to get up.

Emilie waved for him to stay seated and took the chair across from him, selecting a pastry of her own from the plate. She broke off a piece for Duusu, who had already helped himself to some of the fruit salad, before taking a bite of the warm, flaky pastry. “This is delicious,” she commented. “Marinette?”

“Mme Lenoir, but using her own take on Tom’s recipe,” Adrien answered, grinning.

Emilie sighed and helped herself to some fruit. “You certainly aren’t lacking for phenomenal chefs!”

“Marinette’s still the best, but I might be biased!”

“Her old man’s camembert macaroons are better,” Plagg argued, shoving the rest of his cheese pastry into his mouth. “I’ve never met someone who could make cheese speak the way he does!”

Duusu rolled his eyes and tossed a grape at Plagg. “You and your cheese,” he squeaked. “There’s more to life than cheese.”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that, Feathers!” retorted Plagg, hurling the grape back at him. “You sound like Tikki,” he muttered.

Emilie giggled on feeling Adrien’s good mood, the amusement coming from the two Kwamis. “Not going into the office today?” she asked, glancing over at Adrien.

“Nope,” he agreed easily. “Marinette is there for a meeting about the winter lines, and I’ll have a photo shoot Monday – last one before school starts. Nothing I really need to do this weekend that can’t wait until Tuesday. And if anything _does_ come up, Marinette or Mme Batteaux can handle it.”

She nodded, relieved. Gabriel’s greatest struggle when they first started the fashion house was to make time for himself. He would have worked himself into the ground in the first month if she hadn’t insisted that he eat and sleep! “I’m glad to see you prioritizing, dear!” she told Adrien, smiling. “So what is your schedule for the day?”

“Kitty Section is practicing this afternoon on the _Liberty_ ,” he answered. “We have a concert coming up in Le Havre, and we need all the extra rehearsals we can get. But Marinette and I are still planning on us all watching a couple episodes of _Avatar_ tonight – as long as _you_ ’re not busy!”

Emilie shook her head. “Sabrina will be over for a bit this afternoon, but she’s planning to leave before dinner. Jeanne did invite me for dinner to reconnect with some of the other long-time employees, but that’s not until tomorrow evening,” she replied. “I’m glad you have your band, though I miss hearing you play every day!”

“I don’t play as often as I used to,” Adrien admitted. Emilie felt a twinge of shame from him. “There are just so many other things happening.”

“Perfectly understandable, dear,” she assured him. “You need time for other things. I’m sorry for pushing so much on you when you were younger; I’m glad you’ve cut down some.”

“I did stop my Japanese lessons last year,” he told her. “If I ever need it, I can always pick it up again. Or ask Kagami for help. I considered dropping Chinese also, but it has proven so useful in reading the Miracle Book that I’m glad I didn’t!”

Emilie let out an amused snort. “Why do you think I insisted that you learn Chinese from such a young age?” she asked rhetorically.

Adrien chuckled but stopped. His emotions shifted to confusion, and he cocked his head to one side. “Wait… what?”

“Learning Chinese was your first step in becoming the next Guardian,” she explained calmly. “How else were you supposed to learn the code?”

Adrien smacked his forehead. “So _that_ ’s why I picked it up so much faster than Marinette…” He shook his head ruefully. “I suppose, knowing what I know now about our family, I should have realized that!”

“I’m so happy that even after everything that happened, you still received this family legacy,” Emilie told him, smiling warmly. “I always wanted this for you!”

He grinned. “After how left out I was for so long, you have no idea what it feels like to know I’m such an important part of this!” She laughed and raised an eyebrow at him. He chuckled sheepishly. “Okay, maybe you _do_ know what I’m feeling right now…”

“It’s amazing that you and Marinette are so in sync with each other about everything,” Emilie observed. For herself and Gabriel, this level of attunement hadn’t happened until well after Adrien was born – if it had ever really been there in the first place. “Have you thought about your future? Will you both be working at the fashion house together?”

Adrien shrugged. “For now that’s the plan,” he answered. “And I’m always going to be involved with the company. But I told Marinette a few months ago that I’d rather take more of a passive role eventually: let her handle the day-to-day operations of the company while I support her from behind the scenes.”

Emilie nodded knowingly. “That’s what your father and I did, also,” she explained. “I was his manager for the first couple years, but eventually I stepped back some to focus on raising you. You have plenty of time still, but have you given any thought to what you will do instead?”

Once more Adrien shrugged. “Last winter I gave Max the funding he needed to publish and market his Super Akuma Battle Melee game, and that turned out to be ridiculously successful. I’ve thought about doing more of that: investing in my friends and their ideas. I mean, we’re doing well enough already that even if we didn’t get a single Euro in return, we wouldn’t be broke…”

Emilie could feel the anxiety and nervousness from him. “Dear,” she announced calmly. “I think investing in your friends’ ideas could be an amazing investment moving forward – regardless of whether or not it actually pays off financially!”

He let out a sigh, relief swelling in his emotions. “Thanks, Mom. All I’ve wanted is to make you proud.”

She smiled. “I’m already proud of you, dear,” she assured him. “You’ve become such an incredible young man. I know that whatever you decide to do, you’ll do it well.”


	14. Marinette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie has a heart-to-heart with her future daughter-in-law

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty much the reason I wanted to write this anthology series in the first place. That this expanded so much with more of Adrien, Chloe, Sabrina, Guardianship… it’s pretty cool how much it has connected!

The next day, Emilie smiled in anticipation as she set out tea and cookies on her tea table, though the butterflies in her stomach made it impossible to truly relax. She missed Duusu’s constant presence. Duusu would have been fluttering around the room, chattering excitedly one moment and panicking the next – at first his tendency to do so had caught Emilie off-guard, until she realized that, intentionally or not, he was a barometer for her own emotions, giving them external life and allowing her to process them better. But Duusu was not with her. Sabrina had stopped by the previous day and they had traded miraculous so Sabrina could become better acquainted with Duusu and the Peacock Miraculous for the week. And that morning Emilie had hopped through the portal for breakfast with Amelie – and to check up on Felix since he was home for the weekend. When she’d left, she’d left Nooroo behind so Amelie could get to know him.

Emilie crossed to the door as Marinette came into her empathic range. It had been a bit of a shock when she discovered that some of her empathic senses had remained, even after lending Duusu to Amelie. She’d asked Duusu about it, and the Kwami had flitted around excitedly while explaining that some things wear off on his holders after 20 years together. Her range didn’t extend much beyond the same room – fifteen to twenty meters from her at most – and she couldn’t pick up the same nuances, but it was still there. She could feel the anxiety and nervousness pouring off of Marinette as she pulled the door open to find Marinette’s hand poised to knock. Marinette looked up at her wide-eyed, Tikki’s head just visible sticking out of one of her pigtails. Emilie put her hands on the girl’s shoulders and pulled her in for a quick hug, giving her a peck on both cheeks. “Come in, dear! Thank you so much for joining me! Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, Mme Agreste,” Marinette managed, dropping awkwardly into the settee across from Emilie’s accustomed armchair and sitting stiffly. Tikki dove for the plate of cookies and dug in with gusto.

“None of this ‘Mme Agreste’ business between us, dear,” Emilie insisted, waving a hand dismissively. “After all, in less than a year that will get confusing! If ‘Mom’ or ‘Mother’ isn’t comfortable yet, ‘Emilie’ is fine.” She relaxed into her chair and poured two cups of tea. Handing one to Marinette she took in the black shirt with “Purr-incess” across the front in green lettering that she had obviously designed herself. “As a mother, I have been quite gratified to see that Adrien indeed treats you like his ‘Princess,’” she observed, nodding to her chest.

“Adrien has always been a perfect gentleman,” Marinette assured her, blushing delicately.

Emilie chuckled. “I doubt he’s _perfect_ , dear,” she replied, smiling mischievously. “If he _was_ , he wouldn’t need _you_! After all, I find that in any relationship – and especially romantic ones – both parties bring something to the table, and neither one is truly complete without the other.”

Marinette hummed softly and smiled into her teacup, her cheeks a light pink. They sipped their tea quietly for a few minutes before Emilie cleared her throat. Marinette’s emotions instantly became taut.

Emilie sighed in disappointment and looked down to see Tikki giving her a sympathetic smile. She’d been hoping to put the girl at ease, but this always seemed to happen to them. “The reason I invited you here is to give you a proper apology,” she began, her lips turning down in worry. Marinette looked up at her in confusion and surprise. “It seems as though every time we are in the same room together, we get off on the wrong foot, and that is the very opposite of how I wanted my relationship with my future daughter-in-law to start.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I always hoped that my miraculous – specifically the ability it gives me to read other people’s emotions – would help me connect with any girl in Adrien’s life, far better than Gabriel’s mother ever tried to connect with me,” she explained. “She was a proper lady, but always a bit distant and aloof, at least toward me.” She chuckled. “I think she was worried I saw Gabriel as a ‘project’: a rising star in the world of fashion that I could ‘patronize’ for fun. I thought knowing a girl’s emotions would help me cut through that: if you _were_ interested in Adrien purely for his name, or his money, or his reputation, your emotions would reflect that.” She shook her head ruefully and held up a hand as Marinette’s emotions shifted to anger. “No, you don’t have to worry that I suspect you of _that_ , dear,” she assured her. “I know your feelings for him are genuine. After so long, I know the difference between simple infatuation and a mature love based on mutual respect, and the feelings you have for each other are far more mature than I would have expected either of you to feel at such a young age. A mother couldn’t ask for a better woman to marry her son. And yet, every time we are together, it’s like we just aren’t able to connect. I sense a lot of anxiety, fear, and nervousness.”

Marinette paled, her lower lip trembling and her eyes wide. “I’m sorry! I–”

“Marinette,” Emilie interrupted her gently, holding up a hand. “Honey, you have nothing to be ashamed of, and nothing to apologize for. Never apologize for your emotions. Your emotions are a part of you, and you can feel however you feel because that is who you are. I don’t want you to stop feeling anxious around me – well I _do_ , but not because you’re worried that I can sense your emotions! If you stop feeling anxious because of me, I want it to be because I’m not _making_ you feel anxious. I want to do what I can to put you at ease. You are important to my son, and I appreciate so much the love and support and care you give him.”

Marinette looked at her wide-eyed. “You mean you’re not upset?”

“That you are anxious around me?” Emilie asked calmly. “Of course not! I want to find out why so I can try to make it better and we can have a good relationship, but I understand if you don’t trust me enough for that level of honesty yet.”

“Not about that,” Marinette clarified, swallowing hard. “I mean, you’re not upset that Adrien and I are suddenly engaged when you’d never even met me before?”

Emilie nodded slowly, her eyes widening in recognition. Suddenly everything made sense. “It was a shock to find out my son was engaged to a woman I’d never met before, but I’m certainly not upset,” she told her, speaking calmly and smiling warmly to set her at ease. “Sensing as I do the level of love and affection between you two, I would be a horrible person to be upset that you found each other, or that you are getting married, regardless of your age! To wake up and find that Adrien has matured and grown into such a wonderful, strong young man was more than I could ever have hoped for. And to find that he had met and fallen in love with an incredible young woman who cares about him as a person and helps him to be the best possible version of himself? Any mother would be overjoyed by just _one_ of those circumstances, let alone both!”

“I’ve just been so worried that you would be upset with me, that you wouldn’t like me,” Marinette whispered, clutching her teacup tightly. Tikki flew up to her and patted her cheek, whispering something into her ear. Marinette smiled, and Emilie felt her emotional tension ease a little more.

Emilie refilled her own cup and offered some to Marinette. She frowned. “I have been feeling rather unsure of my place in this strange new world,” she admitted. “Before the accident, I knew who I was and how I fit in. I was the one in charge of the house, I was the wife, and I was the mother. Suddenly none of that is really true anymore. You have taken over so much of the running of the household–”

“What?” yelped Marinette in surprise, almost spilling her tea. “I couldn’t do that! I mean, it’s not even my house…”

Emilie snorted. “It’s become more _your_ house than _mine_ in the last year – and that’s not intended as a disparagement or a slight at all; the opposite, in fact. I’ve heard enough stories of what this house looked like under Gabriel for three years, and I shudder to think what I would have woken up to had Adrien been left to his own devices for the last year! With you in charge – regardless of whether you think you were or not – this house is both comfortable enough for friends and guests to hang out _and_ refined enough to host a formal dinner.”

Marinette giggled. “Okay, if I hadn’t put my foot down, Adrien probably _would_ have filled at least a couple rooms to the brim with his anime dolls. And left that life-sized Kenshin statue out for the Gala…”

“And Plagg would have started his own cheese factory in the butterfly garden,” added Tikki.

Marinette gave her a look of surprise. “He wouldn’t!”

Tikki giggled. “He already had all the equipment picked out before I found him with Adrien’s credit card.”

Emilie laughed along with them but quickly sobered. “I’m still not sure of my place with Gabriel – or if I even want him in my life again, knowing everything he did. And Adrien…” she sighed. “I adore the man he has become, but I do sometimes miss the child he was.”

Marinette gave her a sympathetic look. “What can I do?” she asked.

Emilie looked up and smiled. “Perhaps the _better_ question is what _I_ can do for _you_ , ‘Ladybug,’” she replied, raising an eyebrow. “After all, you have accepted so much responsibility in the last three years – even more in the last year alone. You are entering your final year of lycée. You’re running your own fashion line, to say nothing of getting ready to take on the fashion _house_ itself – and I know how much effort goes into that! You are operating a charity. You have a wedding to plan. And you’ve been keeping this mansion together, which is not an easy task! I remember one time our maid was out sick for a week and I decided to clean the house myself instead of finding a temp. It took the whole week just to finish all the _dusting_ , to say nothing of the _bathrooms_. When she was better I gave her a raise and a bottle of wine on the spot!” She shook her head in amazement before fixing Marinette with a curious look. “Do you even _have_ a maid to clean this place anymore? From what I can tell, all your boarders have a secret identity to protect, to say nothing of the small army of Kwamis flying around all the time.”

Marinette flushed. “Um… occasionally? M. Agreste’s maid quit the moment he was arrested, but Adrien hired Mme Lenoir as a housekeeper. She can’t really keep up with everything, though, so everyone else pitches in a little – Mira and Pedro more than anyone else since they’re here practically all the time. We have had a maid service come in a couple of times when we had big company events scheduled, but that’s always a headache since we need to hide all the Heroes of Paris stuff and the Kwami pillows and…”

“And that’s _another_ thing you’ve got on your plate,” Emilie finished, giving her a sympathetic smile. “On top of everything else, you’re running an international super-team and fighting a pan-global criminal mastermind. And somehow you are bearing it all so well! But just because you _can_ bear so much responsibility at such a young age doesn’t mean you should have to bear it all _alone_. I can see you and Adrien are an incredible team. And your friends have stepped up amazingly to support you with the Heroes of Paris. So let me help you, too. At the moment my social calendar is about four years out-of-date, so I have plenty of free time to help you however I can. I want us to have a close relationship, and I want to help you and Adrien as much as possible. After all, my failures as a Guardian robbed you of your childhood every bit as much as Master Fu’s selection of you did.”

Marinette stared at Emilie in surprise for a moment before she burst into tears and buried her face in her hands. Feeling the wave of relief and joy washing over her from her new daughter, Emilie rushed around the table to sit next to her on the settee and wrap her arms around her. Marinette hugged her tightly and buried her face in Emilie’s shoulder, allowing her tears to flow freely.


	15. The Return to Tibet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie visits the site of her accident

After breakfast the next morning, Emilie descended the elevator to the Heroes’ headquarters and found Master Fu waiting for her on one of the couches in the lounge area surrounding the portal ring, Kheaa sitting on his shoulder. He rose when the elevator plate retracted into the floor and waved her over, smiling benignly. Under the surface, however, Emilie could sense a level of anxiety and guardedness from him – a level which matched her own if she was completely honest. She strode briskly over to meet him and nodded curtly.

“Are you ready, Emilie?” he asked her, studying her intently.

Emilie shrugged. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “The last time I was there…” She trailed off into silence and closed her eyes. Duusu would be back in only a couple of days now; she could do this without him. Finally she released a slow breath, allowing her anxiety to escape into the atmosphere – or as much as she could – before adding, “But I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to do this. Let’s just get it over with.”

Fu nodded and pressed a few buttons on the control panel built into the portal ring. The portal whirred to life as its selected mate did the same. On the other side of the ring the interior of a metal shipping container became visible, lit by a trio of bulbs. The sides of the container were lined with tools and building materials, with a pair of cots at the end closest to the doorway. Fu stepped through the portal as Emilie hesitated. “It is quite safe,” he assured her. “The wardstones were repaired.”

Emilie sighed and forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. On crossing the portal ring, she took a shuddering gasp. “The altitude change is so sudden!”

Fu frowned. “We have not found a way to account for that yet,” he admitted. “One of the Australian Guardians, Evelyn, almost passed out the first time she came to help. Young M. Kubdel is researching with their Sorcerers’ Guild, looking for a magical solution.”

Emilie leaned against a pile of lumber to catch her breath before following Fu to the end of the shipping container. He pushed it open and led her out onto an all-too-familiar high plateau. “It looks so different from when I was last here,” she observed, looking around.

Where the last time Emilie had visited the Tibet temple it had been covered with rubble, the outlines of destroyed buildings still visible as half-walls, the plateau had been cleared of debris, leaving a flat surface. Near the head of the path the gate had been rebuilt, three meters wide and an equal height. A magnolia tree on the far side of the plateau had been trimmed back and was beginning to put out new growth. Emilie’s breath hitched when she looked at the center of the plateau, where the same mosaic she had examined last time remained; now, however it was intact.

Pedro stood at one end of a half-built wooden cabin on the far side of the mosaic, hammer in hand. He finished nailing another board to the outside wall of the hall before returning his hammer to its place on his tool belt and coming over to join them. He and Fu shook hands before he turned to Emilie. “Good afternoon!” He held out a hand to encompass the compound. “So… what do you think?”

“It looks much cleaner than the last time I was here,” she answered wryly, stifling a bout of nausea at the thought of her last visit. She felt a hint of unease from both of her companions and shivered involuntarily. “I’m sorry,” she apologized.

Fu waved a hand dismissively. “After what you experienced here, you are entitled to feel some discomfort on returning.”

She nodded gratefully.

“The hall is almost finished,” Pedro explained. “It’s not much, but it’s a start. Having help from the Guardians from the other temples has helped speed it up, as did the miraculous users.”

“Taureau Dechaine pushed the shipping container into place and removed the largest pieces of debris,” Fu supplied. “Ryoku washed away the smallest stones and twigs and the like.”

“And of course the more people who come to participate in the daily meditation, the stronger the protections over the Maw become,” Pedro finished.

“And good thing, too,” Kheaa interjected with a shudder.

“On the subject,” Fu began, leading the other two to sit in a circle around the mosaic.

Emilie sat down near the edge, as far from where she had been attacked as she could, and assumed the lotus position. She closed her eyes and reached within herself to find the reservoir of golden chi waiting below the surface for her to need it. On the other sides of the mosaic she could feel Fu and Pedro calming their emotions to focus their own chi. As Fu began to speak, she allowed her breathing to slow and her body to relax. She had returned to the site of her accident, and she had survived the experience. Yes, the accident had cost her four years of her life, but she would come out of it stronger. Her chi – as well as the miraculous she had loaned to Sabrina while Amelie acquainted herself with Nooroo – connected her to this world that was so much larger than herself. Holding her breath she touched the reservoir of chi and allowed some to flow out into her hands, and through her hands into the mosaic in front of her. Fu concluded the words of the ritual, and she opened her eyes.

Pushing herself to her feet, she stretched her neck and shoulders against the stiffness that had set in from sitting in one position for so long. As she crossed the mosaic to meet the other two, she glanced down at her feet and thought she saw a faint golden glow emanating from the white stones outlining the red-and-black yin-yang symbol in the center of the pattern. However, when she looked back, she couldn’t be sure that it hadn’t just been a trick of the light.

Fu shook his head in wonder. “Did Elizabeth write anything in her journal about the morning meditation ritual?” he asked.

Emilie furrowed her brows and thought. “Nothing beyond the importance of being attuned to your chi,” she admitted. “Should she have written more?”

Fu chuckled. “If that is the case, she wrote all that we knew of it,” he replied. “For the longest time I simply assumed that it was a mere ritual formality, a meaningless tradition handed down from ancient times to connect us to our past. But now? Now I know better.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a good spot to pause “The Woman out of the Fridge” and continue with “A Bees’ Life.” I have 5 more chapters of this written, with ideas for a couple more, and there’s no pressing timeline reason to break up the next 5 chapters, so let me know if you want to see all of them in a bunch or interspersed with the next couple multi-chapter stories.


	16. Patroling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette needs a night off. Her mother-in-law-to-be helps her out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today marks the one-year anniversary of when I started publishing the “Mind Games”-verse. According to AO3’s metrics (which don’t include author notes or review replies), I’ve published almost 640k words (332 chapters total if I counted right)… and I have a backlog of 2½ unpublished stories, plus a bunch more one-shots. This has been a lot of fun for me to write, and I hope it’s been fun for you to read!
> 
> Side note: This series actually started as a NaNoWriMo exercise last year (“Milady” and “Mind Games” together total ~60k words), and I decided to do it again this year. I did manage to finish it (76k words total including edits), which would be impressive if my average publishing output per month for the last year wasn’t 53k words!

Emilie set her book aside and stood up from her favorite armchair in her sitting room, furrowing her brows on feeling the tense emotions emanating from Adrien’s room. She could feel both Adrien and Marinette there, standing on opposite sides of the room, frustration and anger coming from Marinette while Adrien’s emotions fluctuated between worry and concern. Duusu was asleep on his shelf, and she left him where he was, stepping out of the room and walking past the unused master bedroom to stop just outside Adrien’s open bedroom door.

“You really need to take the night off, Bugaboo,” Adrien insisted. “You’ve been up late every night this week!”

“I couldn’t exactly _avoid_ it,” retorted Marinette heatedly. “The Winter Line is supposed to be in two days from now – or did you forget?”

“I didn’t forget,” Adrien acknowledged calmly. “But as the head of the company, I _can_ tell you to take a break before you run yourself into the ground trying to meet a deadline!”

“And if _I_ take a break and hand in my designs late, then everything gets thrown off in the production process, the line doesn’t come out on time, we lose our share in the market, we can’t sell anything, we have to lay off all our workers, and we close!”

“And if you _don’t_ take a break, what will happen then?” Adrien demanded heatedly. “You’ll burn yourself out, your grades will suffer, the Heroes won’t have you when they _really_ need you, and your clothing line will come out late _anyways_!” His voice took on a more soothing tone. “ _Please_ take a night off, Princess.”

“I can’t!”

“Oh, just let it go, kid,” Plagg called. “Since when have you _ever_ been able to change Pigtails’ mind?”

“What’s the problem?” Emilie finally asked, poking her head around the corner. As she had sensed, Adrien and Marinette stood on opposite sides of the room. Plagg hovered near Adrien’s head, while Tikki, sitting near the door, gave Emilie an unhappy look.

“ _Adrien_ ’s trying to make me stay in tonight and skip out on my scheduled patrol,” Marinette told her, folding her arms, glaring at Adrien, and pouting.

“Only because she’s going to pass out on her feet and fall off a roof if she tries patrolling on, like, two hours of sleep in the last three days!”

“I can’t just skip on Kagami!” Marinette turned to Emilie. “Can you back me up here, Emilie? Adrien’s being overprotective again!”

“Actually,” Emilie began, smiling in amusement, “as one of your Guardians, I would advise you to listen to you partner. And as your friend-slash-future-mother-in-law, I would even _echo_ your partner-slash-fiancé’s concern. I’d hate to see you run yourself into the dirt, sweetheart.”

Marinette gave her a dirty look and placed her hands on her hips. “I thought you were supposed to be on _my_ side!”

“I _am_!” Emilie assured her. “And sometimes that means saving you from yourself, sweetie.”

“But I’m the team leader! I can’t just not show up,” objected Marinette, frowning.

“What if _I_ go on patrol for you?” Emilie suggested. “That way you can get your rest – _both_ of you–” she added with a pointed look in Adrien’s direction “–and your friend isn’t out alone if something happens.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask–” began Marinette, eyes widening.

“I insist,” Emilie interrupted. “I’ve been sitting in my room reading half the day anyways; I wouldn’t mind a chance to stretch my legs. And it would be a chance to see more of how your team operates. Besides, I suppose it’s past time for La Paonne to make her grand return!”

* * *

La Paonne arrived at the meeting spot in a small park along the Seine near Notre Dame only fifteen minutes later to find Ryoku already waiting for her with her sword out, working slowly through fencing poses. She leaned against a streetlight and watched as Ryoku suddenly lunged forward, pirouetted around an imaginary block, and drove the sword tip up into what would have been the opponent’s stomach. She backed away a pace, drawing her sword back and holding it up, next to her head and parallel with her shoulder, before relaxing and turning to face La Paonne.

“Konbanwa,” Ryoku greeted her with a slight bow.

“Good evening to you, too!” La Paonne strode over to her and dipped her head slightly, smiling.

“I take it Adrien prevailed on her to go to sleep early?” Ryoku asked, sheathing her sword.

“It actually took something of a joint effort for us to convince her, but yes,” she confirmed, nodding.

“I am unsurprised. Marinette can be…”

“Assertive?” La Paonne supplied, her lips curving up into a smile.

“I was going to say ‘stubborn,’” responded Ryoku, grinning. “I’ve tried to tell her not to take on so much, but she never listens.”

“Maybe she’ll listen if we _both_ tell her!” La Paonne replied with a laugh.

Ryoku giggled. “Not likely.” She smiled, though La Paonne could feel her muddled emotions. “I am glad she has you – that they both do.”

La Paonne gave her a sad smile. “It’s okay to be jealous,” she told her.

Ryoku flushed. “I…” She sighed. “I wish my mother were so supportive and… loving,” she admitted, looking away.

La Paonne put a hand on the girl’s shoulder and pulled her into a loose hug. “I may not know your mother, but speaking as a mother myself, I can tell you that there isn’t a mother who doesn’t – at least on some level – love her child. I think your mother _does_ love you; she just might not be as good at showing it as you need.”

“Thanks.” Ryoku returned the hug briefly, sighing in relief, before she released La Paonne and turned toward the Seine. “Shall we, Paonne-Sama?”

“After you, Ryoku-Chan!” La Paonne jogged after her down to the riverfront, where Ryoku turned east and started to pick up speed, though still running at less than her maximum. “You know, you don’t have to hold back _quite_ so much on my account!” she called.

Ryoku flushed and accelerated, leaping from the street straight up to the roof of the nearest building alongside the river. La Paonne ran to keep up with her and jumped, grabbing onto the edge of the roof Ryoku had landed on and clambering up after her. She grunted at the exertion; Ryoku was already two buildings down. Despite her progress in physical therapy and her daily walks, maybe she wasn’t _quite_ as ready for an intense workout like this as she had thought she was! Before her accident she had only actually used her miraculous to go out like this a handful of times – almost all of them in the first year she’d had her miraculous, when it was still such a new and exciting experience. Reaching the edge of that roof she leapt across to the next one, rolled to her feet and put on a sudden burst of speed to catch up to Ryoku, who had turned to follow the Boulevard Diderot east where it left the river. She followed Ryoku up the boulevard for a few kilometers before Ryoku leapt off the roof they were on, spun around three times in midair, and landed beside the statue in the middle of the Place de la Nation.

La Paonne joined her in the park and sat down on the statue’s base. “I apologize,” she finally told Ryoku, frowning. “I guess I still can’t quite keep up: the endurance isn’t there yet.”

Ryoku shrugged. “I’m sorry for pushing,” she admitted. “I–”

“No… don’t be sorry,” La Paonne insisted. She chuckled. “I think that’s what I need to get back to where I was before all of this – someone to _really_ push, more than that therapist ever does. But a few minutes to rest wouldn’t be amiss!”

Ryoku grinned. “Perhaps a little cross-training, then?” she suggested. “We could spar?”

“Sparring…” La Paonne looked up at her, intrigued. “I can’t say I’ve ever really sparred before.” She flicked out her fan and stood up. “But I welcome the challenge!”

Ryoku drew her sword and slid one foot back, placing both hands on the handle and holding the sword at an upward angle. La Paonne raised her fan in front of her face, obscuring all but one eye. Her mother had trained her in some tessenjutsu as part of her Guardian training growing up, but she’d allowed herself to fall out of practice; after all, her miraculous operated best from the shadows, sending senti-protectors when needed. To face off against, according to Adrien, one of the Heroes of Paris’ best fencers would be an incredible test.

The two stood motionless for several minutes before Ryoku’s sword flashed in the lamplight, cutting at La Paonne’s shoulder from above. She raised her fan to parry the blow, and Ryoku shifted angles mid-strike. La Paonne sprang back, away from the strike, allowing the sword to pass harmlessly in front of her chest. She flicked her fan shut and planted it against the back of the sword, pushing it away and exposing Ryoku’s back. La Paonne kicked, but Ryoku spun around the kick, and La Paonne’s foot only struck air. Ryoku’s sword changed direction, and La Paonne spread her fan to block a high strike, which Ryoku immediately followed with a low slash. La Paonne dropped her fan to lie along her leg and block. No sooner had her sword struck the fan than Ryoku sprang off the ground around her sword as a pivot point, aiming a high kick at La Paonne’s head. La Paonne ducked the kick and brought up her fan to block Ryoku’s follow-through sword strike aimed at her neck. Ryoku landed beside her and lashed out with her sword. La Paonne dropped to the ground and swept Ryoku’s legs out from under her. Ryoku landed on her back, rolled backward through a somersault to her feet, and lunged, driving the tip of her sword at La Paonne’s chest.

La Paonne held her fan spread in front of her and sidestepped as the sword blade pierced the fan – something only possible with a miraculous sword. She snapped the fan shut around the sword, grabbed both sides, and twisted the sword out of Ryoku’s hand, momentum pulling it out of the fan and into the air, and caught it with one hand. She flicked her magically-repaired fan open and held it in front of her face, the sword held out in her other hand.

“Impressive!” Ryoku clapped, grinning excitedly.

La Paonne held the sword out to her, handle first, and Ryoku returned it to its carriage. “Adrien says you’re the best fencer he’s ever fought, so I know you were going easy on me,” she told her, chuckling, “and I appreciate it!”

“Training is a delicate balance,” Ryoku admitted. “If I push too hard someone can get hurt; not hard enough and you don’t improve. With time and practice, everyone can become a better fighter, even those who don’t see as much fighting, such as you or Sabrina.”

“That’s very true,” agreed La Paonne, nodding. “Although I don’t think it’s quite as important for either of us to practice our fighting; our miraculous are best suited to supporting you, so we shouldn’t really be _in_ the fight normally.”

Ryoku raised an eyebrow. “In that case, I would think it’s all the more important for you and Impératrice Pourpre to know how to defend yourselves: if you should be forced to fight, that would probably mean that no one is coming to help.”

La Paonne hummed. The odds of needing to fight were low, but practicing together would certainly help her strength and endurance to recover. Sensing the strain of eagerness the girl held in check, she smiled. “Perhaps we need to make this a regular occurrence, then.”


	17. Nathalie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie makes a difficult prison visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and tomorrow’s are the ones I’m sure everyone has been waiting for…

Emilie steeled her nerves and closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath before entering the prison visitation room. She knew she shouldn’t be so nervous – she could already sense the anxiety coming from the other room, and that itself should have given her some level of confidence. But all she felt was sadness. She had been dreading these particular visits ever since she had learned what they had done after her accident. She could feel Duusu’s weight in her purse and took comfort from his presence.

Maybe she couldn’t bear to face _him_ yet, but she could at least visit _her_. After all, according to the warden she hadn’t had a single visitor since the sentencing – and before then her attorney had only visited twice. Her devotion to her job had been so great that the only people left in her life had been Gabriel and Adrien. But Gabriel was locked up in the men’s section of the same prison. And Adrien had wanted nothing to do with her for the last year.

Not that Emilie could exactly blame him for that.

Her jaw set in a stern line, Emilie pushed the door open and walked inside to find Nathalie Sancouer sitting at the table, her wrists shackled to a ring. Her normally well-manicured look was gone; her hair had fully returned to its natural brown. Without makeup, her face was pallid and drawn – lined with far more stress and tension than it had been four years earlier when Emilie had left Adrien in her care to search for her answers in Tibet. As Nathalie stared at her, Emilie could detect all of the emotions warring within her: happiness, relief, sadness, guilt, shame, even disappointment.

“Emilie–I–it’s good to see you!” Nathalie finally managed as Emilie sat down in the chair opposite her.

Emilie gave her a pitying look. “Nathalie, my dear, we both know that’s not entirely true.”

Nathalie let out a sad chuckle. “I never _could_ get one over on you, could I?” she asked rhetorically, her eyes trailing down to the peacock-fan brooch pinned to the front of Emilie’s blouse. “And I suppose now I know why that is.” She sighed heavily. “I’m ashamed to say that… I fell in love with Gabriel.”

Emilie nodded, resisting the urge to chuckle. “I know. I knew all along that you had feelings for him. And I knew that he reciprocated those feelings on some level. But I was never worried _or_ upset. I always trusted your professionalism and his faithfulness.”

“And I _was_ professional!” Nathalie insisted, her hands clenching into fists involuntarily on the table. Emilie could feel the bitterness and regret beneath her words. “Our relationship was strictly professional until the end!”

Emilie actually laughed ruefully at that. “I suppose that is why we are where we are now, isn’t it?” she observed. “You relationship was purely professional – and the ‘profession’ was trying to get me back. But I would rather if Gabriel could have moved on with _you_ than for him to have done what he did! And he even dragged _you_ into it! Did either of you ever stop to ask yourselves whether I would have _wanted_ you to wake me up if it meant holding Paris hostage for two years!?!”

“That thought never even occurred to Gabriel,” admitted Nathalie, no longer trying to hide her regret and grief. She looked down at her hands. “He never could have moved on from you. You were his guiding light in the darkness. You were the one and only love of his life. What did I have to offer him except my service and devotion?”

Feeling the grief behind her words, Emilie glanced at the camera in the corner and surreptitiously placed her hand over Nathalie’s. “You have far more to offer,” she told her firmly. “I only wish Gabriel had seen that – it would have saved everyone so much time and heartache.”

Nathalie sniffed and finally met her eyes. “Then you are not mad at me?” she asked, a trace of hope seeping into her emotions.

Emilie frowned and shook her head slowly, sighing heavily. “What you did and how you did it was evil and wrong… but you did it out of love for Gabriel,” she admitted. “It may take a long time before I can truly forgive you for it, but you only share a small part of the blame. I can hardly fault you for falling in love with Gabriel – I suppose that would be a bit hypocritical of me, don’t you think? And for all of that… you watched over Adrien as best you could while I was gone. Thank you for that. That fact itself would cover a lot of sins.”

Nathalie nodded, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “Of course,” she whispered hoarsely. “I only wish I could have done more.”

“No one did more than you for three years,” Emilie consoled her. “From what Jeanne says, few enough even tried to help him. And Gabriel blocked out anyone else who would have done anything. So thank you.” She dropped her voice lower and checked to make sure no one was watching at the door. “To show my gratitude, I have two gifts for you. For the first–”

Emilie patted her purse, and Duusu phased out and shot up to Nathalie’s cheek. “Miss Nathalie!” he squealed, nuzzling up against her. Nathalie broke down in tears as she cupped the Kwami in her hand.

“Thank you for treating him well enough that he _wanted_ this visit,” Emilie told her quietly. “Not everyone would have… but you did.” Duusu sat down on one of Nathalie’s hands, rubbing her palm with his paws, while Emilie took the other one. “Since it hurt you so badly, my second gift is the one I received myself.” Emilie closed her eyes and focused her breathing, centering herself in the moment. After her sessions with Master Fu and Pedro, to say nothing of joining in the meditation at the Temple several times each week, it was now second nature to sense the reserve of golden chi waiting just beneath the surface to be accessed. She reached out a hand and cupped it in her chi, drawing a small portion out of the vast ocean and concentrating it in her hand, feeling the physical connection between that hand and the one she was holding. Nathalie gasped as the chi passed through Emilie’s hand into hers. After so long, manipulating her chi no longer left Emilie feeling lightheaded afterwards. She opened her eyes and sat back. “I’m sorry I can’t do more than that,” she apologized. “I’m still recovering myself. But this will heal you. Although after so long using it in the broken state, it will take a few more sessions to fully counteract the effects.”

Nathalie stared at her in awe, hope and joy shining through her emotions. “You mean…”

Emilie gave her a small smile. “I will see you again next week.”


	18. Gabriel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie goes to see Gabriel. Emilie talks to Gabriel. Gabriel does some digging.

Emilie really didn’t want to visit him – not after spending almost two months delving into the bowels of the Ladyblog, combing through every last one of Gabriel’s transgressions over the course of two years. A part of her wanted to ignore him and pretend she had never even been married to the man behind the Hawk Moth.

But she knew there was no moving forward if she couldn’t confront her past demons. And this particular demon had portrayed himself as an angel when she married him and lived with him for fifteen years. And he was the father of her son.

She couldn’t just ignore his existence for the next nine years.

With a heavy sigh Emilie steeled her nerves, nodded to the guard, and pushed the door open to find Gabriel shackled to the table in the visitation room. He stared up at her with a mixture of shock, awe, reverence, and joy. Concentrating on her miraculous, Emilie plumbed the depths of the myriad of emotions he was feeling at that moment, looking for _any_ trace of regret or remorse for his actions.

Nothing.

He started and tried to stand, the handcuff chains rattling on his wrists. “Emilie! I–”

Her lips set in a thin line and eyes hard, still standing by the door on the far side of the room, Emilie held up a hand to silence him as Duusu emerged from her purse, phased into the wall, and disappeared for two minutes. He reappeared out of the wall and gave Emilie a curt nod, turned to glare at Gabriel, folded his arms, and returned to her purse. Only once the Kwami was gone did Emilie speak. “You have some nerve,” she seethed, shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

“What!?!” Gabriel stared at her wide-eyed.

“170 years!” she yelled, her clenched fists quivering at her sides. “170 years my family guarded those miraculous from those who would have abused their power for their own ends! Through wars! Through epidemics! Through natural disasters! Through rioting and upheaval! We used the Butterfly and the Peacock to _help_ people! _I_ used them to help people! Did all of that mean _nothing_ to you!?!” She stopped and took a shaky breath. “Did _I_ mean nothing to you?” she whispered forlornly.

Gabriel’s jaw dropped in shock. He stared up at her. “‘Did you–’ You mean _everything_ to me! I threw away _everything_ for you! And I would have done it again! And again! All to get you back!”

She shook her head. “But you _didn’t_ get me back.” She glared at him, eyes flashing with anger. “If you had cared about me at _all_ – if you had _respected_ me at all – you would never have done _any_ of this!” Crossing to stand opposite him, she slammed her palms down on the table with a ringing noise, staring down at him hard. He flinched at the noise and looked up at her in disbelief; she could sense his confusion. “You. Hurt. People,” she ground out, enunciating each syllable. “And you did it in my name! In what _universe_ did you think that was what I would have wanted!?! I would rather have died _myself_ than come back to find that you had harmed other people in my name! _And with my family’s legacy!_ ” she finally screamed, centimeters from his face.

“No one was killed, and all the damage was repaired by Ladybug!” Gabriel argued, backing carefully away from her.

“Did you _know_ she was going to be able to repair it?” demanded Emilie hysterically. She threw her arms out wide. “As far as I can tell, you had no _idea_ the powers you were actually messing around with! But regardless, that doesn’t matter. You put our _son_ in danger! What if Adrien had been killed?”

“I didn’t know he was Cat Noir!”

She stared at him in disbelief, her jaw agape. “Does that _matter_!?! You put him in danger as _himself_ on multiple occasions! _YOU THREW HIM OFF A BUILDING!!!!_ ” Emilie’s chest heaved from the exertion, and she collapsed into the chair opposite Gabriel, folding her arms over her chest protectively. “The physical damage may have been repaired every time, but not the emotional and psychological damage. And no one suffered more emotionally over the three years between _my_ accident and _your_ defeat than _our_ son.”

Gabriel sighed. “I know,” he admitted, looking down at his hands on the table. “He needed his mother.”

“No.” Emilie shook her head adamantly. “He needed a _parent_. He needed _you_ to be his parent, instead of acting like his jailer. Not allowing him any friends? A social life? Using school and friends as leverage to keep him in line? How can I have seen in less than three _months_ what you missed in three _years_? What you did _damaged_ him, Gabriel.”

“I knew you would help him recover once you woke up,” Gabriel defended. He scoffed. “Besides, he doesn’t seem to be hurting at the moment. Ladybug seems to be fixing _that_ damage, too.”

“She is,” Emilie agreed icily, eyes hardening. “But I sense the struggle he goes through, and _our future daughter-in-law_ shouldn’t be responsible for healing the emotional scars that _you_ left on our son!” She sighed, rubbing her forehead in frustration. “Why couldn’t you have just let me go, moved on, built a new life for yourself with Nathalie?” she demanded rhetorically. “At least then Adrien would have had a _family_.”

Gabriel looked horrified. “I could never do that to you! I love you! I could never have let you go! It would never have been the same without you!”

“No, it wouldn’t have. It would have been different. But it would have been good in a different way. And it would have been a whole lot better than what you have now.”

“There is no way for that to be true.” He shook his head adamantly. “I do not regret what I did – how can I when you are right here in front of me, alive and whole? I wanted Adrien to have his mother back, and now he does. People may have been hurt, but it was worth it in the end.”

Emilie scoffed. “It absolutely was _not_ worth the price! It was not worth the damage you caused! And if you _had_ succeeded? The kids told me what you were attempting to do. Combining the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous? Did you ever bother to _read_ the Grimoire!?! That power comes with a _price_ , Gabriel! The universe _must_ have balance. The universe would have exacted a price equal to the wish, and the price to balance out your wish would have been _Adrien himself!_ That price is _far_ too great! Do you think I would have wanted to wake up, only to find out that my son was now in a magical coma!?! And what if _Adrien_ had been the one to make that wish, not knowing the consequences? That price would have been even _greater_! He would have doomed the love of his life to a magical coma – all without knowing what had happened! Would _you_ have cared to be the one to explain to him that he received his mother back at the cost of the love of his life? Because I sure wouldn’t.” She shook her head and stood up. “I may be able to forgive you for what you did _eventually_ , Gabriel. But not now. Maybe not even before you are released from prison. Not when you feel absolutely no remorse for what you did.” She strode across to the door.

The handcuffs rattled behind her. The chair fell over and hit the floor. “Wait! Emilie!”

She pushed the door open without turning around. “Goodbye, Gabriel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Methinks Mama Agreste mighta had some pent-up anger there…
> 
> Tomorrow I have a “Life and Times” one-shot, and then “Guys’ Day Out” will start on Saturday!


	19. Marinette Take Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie has a dress fitting and a long conversation

Emilie stood perfectly still, her arms hanging down at her sides. After so many years of acting and modeling, she should have been used to the process of fitting a dress. But there was something different about it this time. Perhaps it was because the designer was also doing the alterations – the last time that had been the case it had been with Gabriel, and hadn’t happened since Adrien was four. Perhaps it was because this dress was eventually for her to wear to her son’s wedding. Perhaps it was because the designer was her future daughter-in-law.

Or perhaps it was the two giggling Kwamis who were pinning up the dress hem while Marinette held it straight.

“Tikki, can you put in another one right here?” instructed Marinette. “No, Duusu, a little lower, please.”

Emilie smiled. “This process certainly goes faster with their help, though, doesn’t it?”

“ _So_ much faster,” Marinette agreed, giving the Kwamis an affectionate smile. Duusu beamed back up at her while Tikki selected another pin. “Maybe that’s why I prefer designing things for my hero friends – Tikki can help me with the fittings that way!” She moved around to examine the back of the dress, humming thoughtfully. “Seeing it in person, I’m not too sure about putting the stitching so close to the hem. It could get lost.”

Emilie turned her head to look. “At least we have plenty of time to get this just right, dear,” she told her, “though all things considered I suppose the mothers’ dresses are the least of your wedding day worries!”

“That’s for sure,” Marinette groaned, deftly shifting the hem down a centimeter in the back and pinning it in place before adjusting it to match all the way around. “Nino is insisting on at least three hours of music – and from what he’s showed me most of it isn’t really dancing _or_ background music, either – and I don’t know if we _want_ the reception to go that long. And Kitty Section’s already agreed to play a set too! Alya thinks we need a ton of balloons in the wedding colors, but _I’m_ worried it will be a clean-up nightmare, even _with_ the Kwamis to collect them from the ceiling for us. If Papa gets his way there will be more varieties of cakes than guests. And Julia and I _still_ can’t agree on the best way to deploy the American team they’re bringing over! And every time I ask Adrien his opinion he just says ‘I’ll support whatever _you_ want, Bugaboo,’” she mocked, making a face. “If he says that one more time, I might just let him _support_ the Arc de Triomphe for a few hours!”

Emilie snorted.

Tikki giggled. “Plagg would find that hilarious,” she observed.

Marinette flushed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Emilie. I swear I don’t mean those kinds of threats. Most of the time, anyways,” she added under her breath.

“Dear, if you can get through the wedding _planning_ together, you can get through _anything_ ,” advised Emilie. “And considering what _else_ you’ve gone through together…”

“It’s just so frustrating!” Marinette complained. Emilie winced when she accidentally poked her in the leg with a pin. “I appreciate him giving me so much freedom with the planning – I really do! But I wish he would give a little more _input_.”

Emilie patted her on the head sympathetically. “You wouldn’t think so, but Gabriel was the same way,” she told her. “Oh, we checked out all the venues together, tasted all the cakes together, talked through all the colors and decorations and music… and whenever I asked which he wanted to use, he responded with, ‘Which do _you_ prefer, Em?’ He was so worried about making a decision I didn’t like that he thought the best option was to not tell me his opinion about anything.” She smiled wistfully. “Eventually I sat him down, took his hands, and said, ‘Gabe, I love you, but you need to _man_ up and help me with this. It’s _our_ wedding, it’s _our_ marriage, and we’re a _team_.’”

Marinette sighed, and Emilie felt a twinge of disappointment from her. “But I thought we already _were_ a team,” she whispered forlornly. “We work so well together on everything else, but on this one thing he just won’t actually say what _he_ wants.”

“Tell him that if he doesn’t give you input on any of these decisions, you’ll make him wear a hot pink Speedo for the ceremony,” Emilie suggested, smirking impishly.

Marinette’s whole face turned beet red and a strangled noise came from her throat – Emilie felt her own cheeks redden when she sensed Marinette’s emotions in that moment. Finally Marinette managed to choke out, “He’d probably go along with that!”

Had she not been keeping still for the fitting, Emilie probably would have doubled over with laughter at the mental image – not helped by the two giggling Kwamis. “His father would _definitely_ have a fit if he saw _that_ in a tabloid!” she snorted. She took a couple measured breaths. “Okay, so instead tell him there’s a reason you’re marrying him, and it’s not for his indecisiveness,” she told her once she had regained control of herself. “And if that doesn’t work, tell him that for every time you ask him for feedback and he avoids answering, I’ll tell you another one of his most embarrassing stories.” Marinette giggled, and Emilie grinned mischievously. “Actually, I might just tell them to you anyways!” She sighed. “Whatever happens, the wedding will be lovely, and at the end of the day you’ll be married and you’ll have a wonderful story to tell.”

Marinette smiled. “Mama said the same thing yesterday.” Tikki coughed delicately. “And Tikki has said the same thing, too,” Marinette added, looking down at the Kwami and giggling.

Tikki smirked. “Only every three minutes for the last five months!”

Emilie squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Great minds think alike!” Marinette pushed herself up and examined Emilie critically, hand on her chin, before motioning for her to twirl. Emilie obeyed, and Marinette nodded in satisfaction. While Emilie slipped the dress off, she added, “At least you have a few months still to make these decisions.”

“I know,” Marinette acknowledged, carefully hanging the dress on a hanger and placing it on a rack in the corner. “Still, it’s one more thing. With this being our last year, the teachers all seem to think their subject is the most important, so we’re probably getting four hours of homework every night. Between that and the wedding and the Heroes and Fashion Week coming up, I’m actually starting to fall behind on my schoolwork again. That hasn’t happened since Hawk Moth!”

Emilie pursed her lips as Duusu helped her zip the back of her dress. She sat down on the settee and patted the seat next to her for Marinette to join her as the two Kwamis grabbed a few cookies and disappeared into the bedroom. “That sounds positively exhausting! What can I do to help?”

Marinette furrowed her brows in thought, and Emilie sat back with her tea to wait. At last Marinette replied, “The other day Mme Batteaux said she really missed the company Christmas party that you and Gabriel used to host. It sounded like she was hoping I would start hosting one this year, since she’s already started calling me ‘the new Mme Agreste,’ and last year we weren’t _officially_ dating at Christmas – as least as far as the company was concerned.”

Emilie smiled in remembrance. “I remember those parties. I had so much fun with them…”

“Would you plan it this year?” Marinette asked quickly, wide-eyed.

“It would be my pleasure,” Emilie answered warmly. “I’m sure Jeanne and I can whip something up! You can help plan as much or as little as you have time for – or just show up and smile on the day of the party!”

Marinette sighed in relief and slumped back into the settee.

Emilie watched her for a moment, waiting for her to continue. When it became apparent that Marinette wasn’t going to say anything more, Emilie observed, “You’re still anxious about something.”

Marinette giggled ruefully. “A year with Sabrina and you’d think I would have learned not to try hiding my emotions from you…” She sighed. “It’s the Charity Fashion Show,” she explained. “It was such a hit last year, even with the attempted robbery, so of course Adrien wants to do it again this year. And it was a lot of fun! But it’s so much extra work, on top of everything else. Especially since this year Mme Legrand has me designing at least one piece for _all_ the shows we’ve been invited to.”

Emilie hummed contemplatively. “Do you want some help with the Charity Show?”

Marinette looked up at her, eyes shining. “Would you? If you can organize and plan the show, that will free me up to just worry about the designs! This year Mme Legrand also suggested we open it up for submissions from the other designers, plus some amateur selections. I don’t mind having less to design for it, but that means a lot of other people’s designs I have to go through instead.”

Emilie smiled. “It’s been a few years since I organized a fashion show – not too long after Adrien was born, in fact – but I’d be happy to help!” She pursed her lips nervously – she hoped this wouldn’t be overstepping her bounds. “You know,” she began slowly, “I don’t wish to presume, but if you and Adrien are agreeable, I would love the opportunity to take more of an active role with your Charity. After everything Gabriel did, I do want to find a way to make up for my mistakes that allowed him to do it.”

Marinette nodded. “Adrien said some of the same things when he started the charity,” she confided. “With everything else that’s happened in the last year, it has felt like we’re leaving the charity to its own devices most of the time. It would be amazing if you could manage it!”

Emilie let out a quiet breath in relief as Marinette leaned into her side and closed her eyes. Emilie wrapped an arm around Marinette’s shoulders and kissed her forehead. “You know, honey, if your schedule is getting too busy, we can put our weekly teatimes on hold until Christmas,” she offered.

Marinette shook her head. “Definitely not,” she replied. “Some weeks this is the only ‘break’ I get! Thank you so much for taking the time for me… Mom.”

Emilie smiled warmly and gave her a gentle squeeze. “It’s always a pleasure to visit with my favorite daughter!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first Charity Fashion Show was in [“Tit for Tat.”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23968420/chapters/57648913) The second one may wind up in this anthology. I have a couple future ideas for this anthology, but nothing written after Chapter 21.


	20. Sabine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mothers-in-law-to-be have tea together

The bell above the bakery door tinkled as Emilie pushed it open a little after two in the afternoon. The kids would be finished with school in an hour or so; when they left she would ride with them to the Agreste offices to visit with Jeanne and Marinette about the Christmas party – they had a couple months left to plan, but it was always better to start early. And in the meantime… She inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of fresh-baked bread. The seating area was largely empty; apart from an older man sitting in one corner and nursing a cup of coffee, the only other person in the room was a young man scrubbing down the other tables.

Sabine glanced up from the glass display case she was in the middle of wiping and smiled brightly on catching sight of Emilie. “Come in, Emilie!” she called. “Tom is just in the middle of his prep work for the evening rush, and we’re just finishing up our midday cleaning.” She placed the rag behind the counter and waved for Emilie to follow her up to the apartment. “I’m so glad you came over today. I’m sorry I haven’t been over to your house since you returned; some days we are so busy I start at four in the morning and five minutes later Marinette is coming through the door after work!”

Emilie smiled. “Don’t worry about it,” she assured her, taking a seat at the small round dining table. “For as much as I love the Mansion, I do need to leave that place a little more often! And it was such a pleasant day for a walk.”

Sabine nodded and turned on the stove to boil the water for tea before pouring out a pile of reject cookies on a plate. Emilie selected a cookie for herself as Duusu phased out of her purse and grabbed his own cookie, settling on the edge of the plate to eat it.

“Mmmm,” Duusu squeaked around his full mouth. “Your cookies are some of the best I’ve ever had!”

“Tom started from an old family recipe with these and made a few… modifications,” Sabine explained, scooping loose tea leaves into the teapot.

Emilie furrowed her brows slightly on sensing the competing emotions from Sabine. Once the water was hot enough, Sabine prepared the teapot and set out teacups for them. “You have such a lovely house,” Emilie observed, admiring the decorations. “I see where Marinette gets her design aesthetic from!”

Sabine laughed. “Her father is the artist,” she replied, looking fondly into the distance at a wall of family pictures. “One of these days I’ll have to show you the album with some of the cakes he’s decorated. He sometimes says that he should have been a sculptor… though you can’t _eat_ sculptures!”

Emilie chuckled. “When he first started, Gabriel was the same: so passionate for his art. I really loved that about him.” She fell silent. Duusu looked up at her, his eyes wide and his mouth starting to droop into a frown. “Sorry. He’s _still_ …”

Sabine nodded sympathetically. “Adrien has been the same way all year,” she confided. “Every so often he will make some comment about the way that things used to be, and suddenly it’s like the wound is reopened.”

Emilie let out a breath. “I don’t begrudge this second chance,” she admitted sadly, “but sometimes I wonder if I wasn’t better off not having a chance to know what he had become.”

“Adrien has certainly been happier since you woke up,” Sabine observed. “And Marinette positively adores you!”

Emilie smiled in embarrassment. “She is a wonderful young woman,” she replied. “You and Tom must be so proud!”

“We certainly are!” Sabine agreed. Emilie felt her emotions shift slightly.

“But…” she prompted.

Sabine gave her a look. “You know it’s a little disconcerting when you do that, right?”

Emilie shrugged. “You get used to it.”

Sabine laughed dubiously. “I’ll take your word for it. So what _do_ you sense from me?”

“I sense that something is troubling you,” Emilie answered. She closed her eyes and concentrated. “There is some guilt and worry there under the surface. But overall you feel very content. And happy.”

“I am _very_ happy to see the kids so happy,” Sabine acknowledged, nodding. “Adrien used to spend almost every night here, but now he has a reason to return to the Mansion in the evening. Marinette has been far more relaxed and less stressed out over the last month.”

“I am glad I’ve been able to help them, even if just in a small way,” Emilie told her. “Even if it’s just by helping them carry some of the burdens they’ve been taking on.”

“Just be careful,” warned Sabine, giving her a small smile. “Marinette is exceptionally good at over-committing herself; I would hate to see her start over-committing you, too!”

Emilie smiled and sipped her tea. “And yet you feel guilty?”

“I worry I have not been doing enough for them,” Sabine admitted. “After her weekly teatimes with you she’s almost on cloud nine; I wish I had the time to do the same for her.” She chuckled ruefully. “It is a pity she is at school during our afternoon slow time.”

“A benefit of essentially running Agreste will be the ability to set her own hours,” Emilie reminded her.

Sabine hummed doubtfully.

“You are still her mother,” Emilie pointed out. “She knows how much you love her – and she has said how much she appreciates the time you _do_ put aside for her.”

“I should do it more.”

“You and Tom do have a business to run.”

“It’s not more important than our daughter.”

“Of course it isn’t,” Emilie agreed with a nod. “But it is still time-consuming. And even in spite of that you spent last year parenting both kids.”

Sabine laughed. “It wasn’t _quite_ as hard as you make it sound,” she commented. “I suppose you might say a benefit of everything that happened is that they’ve learned self-reliance. Adrien is such a gentleman, and they have become so good at caring for each other.”

Emilie smiled fondly. “To find him so mature and happy and loved… it’s more than I could have hoped for – and positively _miraculous_ given everything else I’ve learned about the last four years. All the same, I’m happy stepping up to help you and Tom share the load in supporting them. After all, my schedule is far lighter than yours.”

Sabine returned her smile. “I am glad you are making such an effort with Marinette,” she noted. “Tom’s mother, Gina, was very enthusiastic when we first met, but she took a very ‘hands-off’ approach to our relationship: she was around on occasion, but not regularly. These days as often as not she is off adventuring. And as much as I appreciated the space, I sometimes wish she’d been more supportive, especially when Marinette was younger.” She gave Emilie an impish grin. “But don’t for a moment think that when the grandkids start coming you’ll get them all to yourself! Even _if_ they’ll be living with you!”

Emilie returned the look and quipped, “Oh, don’t worry: _someone_ has to teach them how to bake!”


	21. Marco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie gets to play babysitter

“I need you to watch Marco for me this afternoon!”

“But this is supposed to be my weekend off. I’m taking Alain to the park later to meet some friends from school!”

“Can’t you bring Marco with you?”

“Not really.”

“Well, _I_ can’t bring him with me! I need to run errands this morning. Plus I got a lead on the Bear yesterday up north, and if I don’t follow up on it today, it could vanish yet _again_!”

Emilie followed the sound of arguing down the hallway from her suite to the dining room, Duusu sitting on her shoulder. Julia sat at the table next to Marco, who had half a croissant in his hand, dunking it in a glass of orange juice. Julia held a coffee mug in both hands, her lips turned down in a frown. Emilie could sense rising frustration and irritation from her. Lise stood on the opposite side of the room, hands on her hips, her emotions a mix of anger, embarrassment, and guilt. Mettli and Russa sat together in the middle of the table on a plate of fruit and sausage links, looking back and forth between their holders with concern.

“I hate when the pack devolves into in-fighting,” grumbled Mettli, giving Russa a dirty look.

Russa sighed. “You can’t blame my kid for wanting a chance to see her friends.”

“I can when she turns on her pack leader,” Mettli retorted.

“What seems to be the problem?” Emilie asked, her gaze darting back and forth quickly between Julia and Lise.

Julia let out a breath, and her frustration level decreased marginally. “I need someone to watch Marco while I search, and Lise is busy,” she explained irritably.

“Mama, _quiero_ eggs!” Marco whined, dropping his croissant on the table.

Mettli fluttered over to him and patted his cheek. “We can get you eggs, kiddo,” the Kwami assured him. She was just about to fly away to the kitchen when Julia shook her head.

“You asked for pastries, sweetheart,” Julia told him patiently, picking up the croissant and holding it up to his mouth. Marco took the croissant, frowned, and tossed it back on the plate. He shook his head, folded his arms, and pouted. Julia sighed. “ _Hijo_ , finish your croissant and then you can have eggs.”

Marco turned away and shook his head. “No!”

With a huff, Lise quickly walked over to the table, sat down across from Marco, and picked up his croissant. “Mmmm…” she hummed, breaking off one end of it and popping it in her mouth. “ _Muy bien_ , no?” She smiled teasingly at him. “You don’t know what you’re missing out on!”

“Mine!” Marco snatched the croissant away from her and took a huge bite.

Julia gave Lise a grateful look and nodded, stifling a chuckle.

Emilie smiled on feeling the eased tension between them. “I could watch him for you today,” she offered.

“Could you, Emilie?” Julia asked, looking at her in surprise. “He can be a bit of a handful,” she warned.

Emilie smiled in amusement. “Adrien could be a handful sometimes, too. I can handle a rambunctious toddler!” she assured her.

Duusu clapped his paws excitedly. “It’s been so long since I had a little one to look after! This will be so much fun!”

“Oh, thank you so much!” Julia told her, letting out a relieved breath.

“Thanks, Mme Agreste,” Lise added, giving Emilie a quick hug.

“My pleasure, sweetie!” Emilie beamed as Lise made her way out of the room. “You have fun with your friends!”

Once she was gone, Julia sighed. “Sometimes I feel more like her parent than the leader of her miraculous team,” she confessed. “And then there are the times I worry that I am taking her for granted. But I know I would not be able to handle this entirely by myself.”

“She knows how much you appreciate her,” Emilie consoled her, taking the vacant seat on Julia’s other side. “I don’t think she really wanted to fight about it. And I know she cares for Marco.”

“I know,” Julia agreed, nodding. “And Marco positively adores her.” She tossed back her last swallow of coffee, pushed away from the table, and kissed Marco on the forehead. “Now you be good for _Señora_ Emilie, _muchacho_ ,” she told him seriously. “I will see you this evening!”

“ _Oui_ , _mama_ ,” Marco replied, nodded. “ _Te aime_!”

“ _Te amo tambien_ ,” Julia answered, kissing him again with a sniffle. She grabbed her bag as Mettli dropped inside, tossed her sweater over her shoulder, and left for the day. Emilie looked over at Marco while Duusu picked out a few fruit pieces from the Kwami plate.

“Can we go play?” Marco asked eagerly, standing up and bouncing up and down on his toes.

“Don’t you want to finish your orange juice?” Emilie asked, raising her eyebrows and sipping her tea slowly.

Marco groaned in irritation but grabbed his cup off the table and chugged the orange juice. “Done,” he said, climbing down from his chair. “ _Now_ play?”

Emilie nodded slowly and stood up from the table, stretching her arms as she did so. “Okay, sweetie,” she agreed, holding his dishes out to him, “but can you bring your plate into the kitchen for me?”

Marco nodded, rolling his eyes, and took his plate and cup from her. Emilie followed him out of the dining room and down the hallway to the kitchen, where Mme Lenoir was proofing dough for fresh bread. Marco reached up to put his plate on the counter, but couldn’t reach it.

Mme Lenoir saw him and took the dishes from him. “Thank you, dearie!” she praised, smiling.

“You did great!” Emilie told him, holding her hand out. “Now we can play.”

Marco grinned and grabbed her hand, dragging her out of the kitchen and down the hallway, past the front entryway and office door, and down the guest wing toward the playroom. Emilie shook her head in amusement as Marco pushed the door open and pulled her inside after him. When Adrien had been growing up, they had fitted out a nursery for him in the room next to his bedroom and filled it with everything imaginable: a chest of wooden blocks large enough to build a house, a train set that ran around the entire room, a play kitchen, and even the playhouse he had dug back out for Marco. In his first few years, before they hired Gorilla, Adrien and Monsieur Singe had played in the playhouse almost every day. But Adrien’s favorite toys had probably been his stuffed animals: there had been one time Adrien had used his stuffed animals to set up a zoo all around the room and then given her a tour.

Marco went straight into the playhouse with Duusu fluttering behind him. Emilie sighed in contentment on feeling the happiness and excitement from Marco. The toddler picked up a toy robot from the table in the playhouse and set it up next to another one, giggling. Duusu landed in front of the robot, and Marco set its arms up, pointing the little cannons on its shoulders at the Kwami. There was something adorable about watching the Kwami play with the child – it made so much sense for Julia and Pablo not to hide the miraculous and Kwamis from Marco. Of course, since they lived in a temple, hiding would probably have been impossible. When Adrien had been young, she had considered allowing him to interact with Duusu, or even letting Duusu watch him on occasion. Her mother had never allowed her to see Duusu and Nooroo when she was growing up – she hadn’t know anything about the Kwamis until she’d turned fourteen. Idly she wondered about Adrien and Marinette: would they try to hide the miraculous from their children? Looking around the Mansion right now, the answer seemed obvious.

Emilie hummed thoughtfully: sooner or later, that day would come, wouldn’t it? She would have grandchildren; Adrien and Marinette would be parents. Was she really old enough to be a grandmother? Adrien hadn’t quite turned 18 yet; how could she be old enough for that? But she shrugged: the day would come eventually. And when it came, she would do anything for her grandchildren, just like she would for their parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monsieur Singe was a senti-monkey that Emilie created to keep Adrien company as a companion/protector, mentioned first in [“Mind Games.”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23397484/chapters/56381104)
> 
> Although I have ideas for future chapters, I’m putting “The Woman out of the Fridge” aside for now. Since I’ve been using this to break up the multi-chapter stories, I’m going to do the same thing going forward with a new series, “The Superhero Liaison Department Case Reports.” The next few chapters of “Fridge” will probably come out before/around the one-shot series currently titled “Christmas Anthology”… which won’t start until probably February.


	22. A Planning Meeting with Jeanne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie and Jean finish planning the office Christmas Party and Fashion Show... and talk about a few other things

“I think that just about covers it for the Christmas party. Are the Dupain-Chengs still planning to cater it?”

Emilie nodded and took another sip of her tea. She and Jeanne had spent the last hour in Jeanne’s spacious new office at Agreste finalizing all the plans for the party which they (and Marinette) would be hosting at the Mansion next week. It was only the last week of November, but having the fashion house’s party during the first week in December just made far too much sense. After all, they still had dozens of fashion show entries to prepare throughout the rest of December. And Adrien had put his foot down and insisted that the company had to take at least a couple days off for Christmas. “Sabine is especially excited to try out their newest dish!”

“Are you sure you don’t need help with the decorating?” Jeanne asked, raising an eyebrow. “I really don’t mind. I can stop by after work on Monday to help with organizing things.”

Emilie shook her head dismissively. “You have so much to do already, I’d hate to make you work even _more_ , and during one of the busiest times of the year! But,” she added, smiling mischievously, “if you have a chance after you finish up here, you’re always welcome to stop by for some eggnog and cookies!”

Jeanne chuckled and picked another macaroon out of the bag Emilie had brought. “I suppose you have more than enough help at home to get the lights and tree up,” she conceded. “It seems like every time I stop in I see someone _else_ I don’t recognize – is Adrien running a bed-and-breakfast now?”

“Something like that,” Emilie acknowledged, giggling. She slipped another macaroon into her purse for Duusu. “From what I’ve heard, I think after seeing almost no one for years, he’s decided to make it his mission in life to fill the Mansion with friends!”

“He certainly deserves them,” agreed Jeanne, a hint of regret coloring her emotions. “That boy has been through _more_ than enough… all things considered…” She set aside that notebook and pulled out another one, grimacing. “But on to the Charity Fashion Show. I talked to the hospital and a couple of our models just backed out. Unfortunately, they don’t have anyone available to replace them.”

Emilie hummed contemplatively. “What about that orphanage?” she suggested. “You know, the one over in the 19th Arrondissement? I remember visiting there–”

Jeanne shook her head, embarrassment rising to the forefront. “Shut down two years ago from lack of funding,” she explained. She knit her brows for a moment before snapping her fingers, eyes lighting up in realization. “But the Diocese does have an orphanage just outside of the city. I think I remember the Heroes even saved it from an Akuma toward the end. Perhaps a few of the kids there would like to step in and participate. And I’m sure the hospital will be willing to split the proceeds, given the circumstances.”

Emilie sighed in relief and relaxed. “I’ll look it up and stop by there tomorrow. After confirming with the venue, of course. And I don’t think the kids will complain if we dip into the Charity’s funds to make a donation to the Diocese for the orphanage.”

Jeanne shut that notebook and pushed it aside before pouring them both another cup of tea. “I must say,” she began, leaning back in her desk chair and raising her cup to clink against Emilie’s, “I am so glad to be back to planning these kinds of events with you – it’s been such a long time!”

Emilie nodded, smiling in remembrance. “Four years ago – no, _five_ – since the last Christmas party,” she agreed. “And I don’t even _remember_ the last fashion show we planned together.”

“It was the Spring collection the year after the Olympics,” Jeanne reminded her. “I remember we tried to get a few of the swimmers to come as models for the swimwear line since Gabriel had decided on a patriotic theme.”

“Oh, god, that was…” Emilie paused and cocked her head in surprise. “Adrien was _six_ that year!”

Jeanne nodded sadly. “It’s been a while! I’m glad we’re doing it again now, though I’m still sorry for getting you roped into it – I’m afraid it’s _my_ fault it happened.”

Emilie shrugged, helping herself to another macaroon. “If it gives me an excuse to see you, I’m not going to complain! I’m happy to help out where I can, especially with how busy Marinette is this year.”

“I… may have put a little too much on my little protégée lately,” admitted Jeanne, flushing nervously and looking down at her desk. “I noticed last year that she could get overwhelmed if she took on too many projects at once, but I wanted to give her another test for this year. If she’s going to have this job in a few years, she needs to be able to work with a team, and that means accepting and critiquing other designers’ work, rather than just doing everything herself.”

Emilie hummed in agreement. “She has gotten pretty good at delegating,” she pointed out.

“Oh, I know,” Jeanne agreed, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. “Although it’s different here than… elsewhere.” Her emotions shifted to guilt. “I didn’t realize just how _much_ it would overwhelm her to have her submit at least one design for each of the fashion week shows _and_ ask her to incorporate other people’s designs into _this_ show, on top of fishing up her designs for the Summer Marinette Line. It isn’t _that_ much more than she did last year, but I guess it was just enough.” She paused, amusement creeping into her emotions. “Although in my defense, it’s not _my_ fault that there are _so_ many new Heroes we have to incorporate into the Charity show this year!”

Emilie chuckled in agreement. That part was entirely thanks to Marinette and Adrien!

Jeanne sighed. “It’s so easy to forget just how _young_ they both are, considering _everything_ they’ve accomplished in the last couple years. But then I remember that they really are still just in their last year of lycée!”

“Well, you said it yourself: you’re training Marinette so she can eventually take over a fashion house,” Emilie reminded her. “All of this is just part of that. And forcing her to acknowledge her limits and delegate to others early on isn’t such a bad thing!”

“That is quite true,” Jeanne agreed. “And I am glad she’s had so much help with everything – between you and all her friends.” Her emotions turned nervous and she paused for a beat. “And I don’t just mean everything with the company. Or with school.”

Emilie raised an eyebrow in feigned surprise. “I have no idea what else you could mean.”

Jeanne gave her a deadpan look. “I’m sure.”

Emilie examined Jeanne’s face carefully and finally nodded. She looked behind her to make sure the door was still closed before asking, “How long have you known?”

“I suspected it back in the spring,” Jeanne replied, not hiding her relief. “Sabine said the kids had some secret life thing going on, and sure enough they had to run off for a week, only to appear again in New York with a new friend and no explanation. Add to that just how close they are, so different from any kids dating in lycée: that’s not something that just _happens_. But the kicker came when they woke you up.” She paused, turned nervous. “It was enough of a shock when I found out I was working for Hawk Moth; to find out that now I’m working for Cat Noir and training Ladybug…” She chuckled. “I’m glad I stayed now!”

Emilie smiled. “I know the kids appreciate having you here!”

“I just – I wish there was more I could do…” Jeanne swallowed. “After everything they did, I wish–”

Emilie put her hand on Jeanne’s arm, and she stopped talking instantly. “What you’ve done for them in helping them keep this company going has been more than enough – especially when their… other jobs… can interfere.” She furrowed her brows in thought. “I suppose if you already know the kids’ identities, it’s okay for you to know mine.”

Jeanne’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You’re kidding! Let me guess: you’re the new Peacock? That’s the only new hero that would fit. Is it just recently?”

Emilie smiled. “Actually, since I was younger than the kids – except when Nathalie was using it, of course,” she added, pursing her lips in distaste.

“I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me,” Jeanne acknowledged, nodding. “Adrien had to get it from _somewhere_ …”


	23. Audrey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie has tea with another "old friend." It goes about as you expect.

Emilie had settled on an outdoor location for this particular visit – a café down the block from the Agreste Fashion House building. It was actually the same café where Emilie had met with _another_ old friend from the fashion world months ago, just a couple weeks after waking up. That had been such an exciting visit: two old friends catching up after so long apart and picking up as though it had just been yesterday (which, for Emilie, it almost _had_!). This time, however, the reunion wasn’t quite as joyous.

It had all started yesterday, when Emilie stopped in at the Dupain-Chengs’ bakery in the afternoon and was surprised to find Chloe standing behind the counter and ringing up orders. Chloe’s demeanor had been outwardly calm and professional, though she had been starting to fall behind the constant orders flooding in during the late afternoon rush. Under the surface, however, Emilie had sensed the anger and frustration the girl was trying to hide away and ignore with the frenetic pace and constant noise of the bakery. Sabine had caught Emilie’s eye while handing a bag to a customer at the counter and pursed her lips on recognizing Emilie’s concerned look. Seeing a break in the orders coming in, Sabine had tapped Chloe on the shoulder and taken her place at the register before passing Emilie a bag with a couple muffins. Emilie wordlessly nodded for Chloe to join her at the single open table next to the front window.

Chloe had uttered a single word before shutting down and shoving the entire muffin into her mouth: “Mother.”

Emilie had put her hand on Chloe’s shoulder and pulled her into a one-armed hug, almost gasping in shock when the girl didn’t reject the public display of affection but instead leaned into the touch, resting her head on Emilie’s shoulder. They had sat like that for almost an hour without another word spoken before Chloe finally sniffled, stood up, and returned to the counter.

Adrien had called later in the evening, after Emilie had returned to the Mansion, to let her know that he and Marinette wouldn’t be home for dinner. Marinette was staying at the bakery for the rest of the week to keep Chloe company, and he was going to join them for the night. Then Sabrina and Alya were planning to spend the next few nights with the two girls for an extended sleepover. Emilie had bit back her initial comment and merely told him to give her love to the girls and let them know to call her if they needed anything.

Months of progress by Chloe, all rolled back in a single day.

So here Emilie was, sitting across from the self-proclaimed _Reine de l’Université_ – who had dropped the “ _-ité_ ” the moment she graduated. And started calling herself _Reine de Style_ to boot.

“I’m telling you, darling, what _is_ Paris fashion coming to these days?” Audrey asked rhetorically gesturing toward the floral patterned skirt worn by a woman walking past them on the street. “All these ridiculous colors. And the frills! Sleek and refined is _in_ this season!” She waved to her own outfit as evidence.

Emilie frowned. “I happen to like bright colors,” she noted, sipping her tea. “So much cheerier, it always lifts my mood. Besides have you seen the Fall Line from Agreste?”

Audrey scoffed. “I suppose you would be partial to your own company, Em,” she observed, raising an eyebrow at her. “And I can admit that I like the new direction since the last Spring Line far better than _anything_ Gabriel put out over the last few years.” She made a face. “So many of his designs looked like he’d just thrown paint cans at a department store dummy! Or like something created by a colorblind monk. And I _don’t_ just mean the ones he was selling in his stores…” She glared down at the latte in her hand and stuck out her tongue in disgust. “Who made this thing? It’s too milky! Utterly ridiculous!”

Emilie rolled her eyes. “”You never change, Aud,” she sighed. “Do you remember that Italian restaurant we visited our first semester?”

Audrey groaned. “They put _far_ too much cheese on my fettuccini!”

“The dish was _supposed_ to come with cheese. And it was still good food,” argued Emilie.

“You always _were_ my little ray of sunshine, Em,” Audrey commented, shaking her head. “It’s a pity that the _date_ didn’t turn out any better than the food!”

“What was that boy’s name?” Emilie asked, stifling a laugh at the memory. Audrey had ranted about him for a week straight afterward!

“‘Jean’,” replied Audrey, shuddering. “Such a _common_ name – and such a _common_ boy. Two minutes. Of course, _you_ didn’t fare any better on that date, did you, darling?”

Emilie pursed her lips. “That was my first date with Gabriel, remember? Your ‘can’t miss,’ ‘future-of-fashion,’ brilliant budding designer?”

“I remember.” Audrey shrugged. “And I had such high hopes for him when we first met, too. His use of color blew away our entire Design class. He was the next big thing for such a long time… but to fall so low. Now, I’m not saying Andre is any better – though at least he’s not in _jail_. But I guess we both ended up married to losers.” She chuckled. “When they say the woman is the better half, in our cases they’re absolutely correct!”

“Gabriel was a good man when we first met,” Emilie pointed out acidly. “Andre was, too, for that matter. And even if I haven’t seen much of him lately, that doesn’t appear to have changed.”

“Yeah, well, Gabriel also became Hawk Moth,” Audrey argued, arching an eyebrow at her in challenge. “And quite apart from his _actual_ terrorism, those _Akumas_! They were committing ‘style terrorism’! I mean, Style Queen??? So much gold and glitter. And what was with those spikes? I’m sure he did that just to punish me! If I’d known it was him, I would have turned _him_ to glitter! Of course,” she mused, “becoming a super-villain takes a lot of spine. I suppose that could set him apart as an improvement over the spineless, gutless man _I_ married!”

“Don’t you remember when you first met Andre?” Emilie asked, frowning. “He was so sweet, so doting and caring. I could tell he loved you very much.”

Audrey shook her head. “You can call him _sweet_ or _loving_ if you wish; _I_ would call him weak. A politician who can’t stand up for himself. If he had even a _fraction_ of Gabriel’s fire, maybe I would be able to stand living in the same country as him!”

“Still,” Emilie noted, “at least our children both turned out well.”

Audrey hummed dubiously. “Your Adrien, maybe,” she admitted. “I suppose he _has_ inherited a little of Gabriel’s drive.” Emilie gave her a curious look. “Oh, I’ve been keeping up with his little fashion empire since he took over the company – I was curious how it would fare after he decided to gut it out instead of selling. He’s had a couple of flops, of course, and he doesn’t have a _fraction_ of Gabriel’s design sense himself. That Legrande isn’t the sharpest designer, either.” Emilie forced herself to breath normally. “But he did pick well with that Marinette.”

Emilie raised an eyebrow and cocked her head in surprise. “Was–was that a _compliment_ I heard just now?”

“Of course it was,” Audrey retorted dismissively. “ _I_ called that the girl was going places _years_ ago, so of _course_ she’s going to be the next big name in Paris fashion!”

Of course: same old Audrey.

“But _Chloe_?” Audrey continued, giving Emilie a dubious look. “You really think _she_ turned out well?”

“Don’t you?”

“Lazy, that’s what she is,” Audrey scoffed. “If it weren’t for that redhead pushover friend of hers, I just know she would be failing in school. And even _with_ the help, she still can’t manage better than a low A. Of course, that’s probably because she’s always flitting off to do something else pointless and beneath her. She can’t be on time to save her life, and she can’t prioritize. Did you know Andre arranged for us to have tea yesterday after school but she never showed?”

“I can’t imagine why…” Emilie muttered. Louder she pointed out, “Chloe is a superhero. I’d hardly call that ‘unimportant.’”

Audrey scoffed. “‘Superhero’… I’m sure you feel beholden to the Heroes of Paris for waking you up, darling, but Chloe hardly belongs on their level. In fact, when she first got that miraculous-thing, she was nothing but an irresponsible show-off, thinking that she could just declare herself to the world and we’d all have to fawn over her. Honestly, that girl might be a bigger disappointment than even her father!”

Emilie narrowed her eyes. “Do you have any idea what she went through because of that?”

“Whatever it was, she brought it on herself.” Audrey waved a hand dismissively.

Emilie could feel her own righteous anger rising, but it wouldn’t solve anything – not with Audrey and certainly not when they were in public. She took in a calming breath and forced herself to release the fury into the atmosphere. Tapping into her miraculous, she narrowed in on Audrey’s emotions: arrogance, pride, fear, a trace of… regret? “Do you _really_ think all of that about Chloe?” Emilie asked sadly.

Audrey gave her a look. “Considering how incredible her mother is, I expected any daughter of mine to be… well…”

“‘Incredible’?” Emilie supplied, arching an eyebrow.

“Of course,” Audrey agreed, arching an eyebrow. “Who wouldn’t?”

“So you’re disappointed that Chloe hasn’t lived up to your impossibly-high standards?”

“How is it impossibly-high for me to want her to reach her full potential?” demanded Audrey, folding her arms haughtily.

“Because it’s blinded you to your own daughter! You have gotten so wrapped up in what you want Chloe to _be_ that you’ve completely missed out on who she really _is_!” retorted Emilie, letting out an angry breath and folding her arms. “You want her to be a carbon copy of you – which she has tried for years to become – but that’s just not who she _is_. Instead of a miniature version of yourself – haughty, arrogant, looking down her nose at the ‘peasants’ – what you have is a kind, sweet, caring young woman who always tries to do the right thing and help others. Far from lazy, she might work harder than any other of the Heroes of Paris except Ladybug _herself_! And her priorities aren’t wrong just because they’re not yours: after trying yours out, she changed. Now she puts other people’s needs ahead of her own to a fault! So no, she _isn’t_ you, Audrey. She’s _better_.”

Audrey scoffed dismissively. “What do you know of my daughter?”

Emilie raised an eyebrow. “What do _you_ know of your daughter?”

Audrey huffed. “I know enough.”

 _That’s debatable._ “Well, _I_ know that she loves you, despite her best efforts to hide it,” Emilie answered heatedly. She could feel her anger returning – a paparazzo on the other side of the street cocked his head in their direction, raising his camera. “I know that she also _hates_ you because of how hyper-critical you always are. I know that she has only ever wanted your attention and approval, and that until only a few years ago, she would have done _literally anything_ to earn it. And I know that the only reason she has been able to move past that and become who she is now is because she found a new purpose and a new family with the Heroes of Paris. _That_ ’s your daughter”

Audrey stared at her in shock. “How could you possibly know all that?”

“I listen.”


	24. Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another of the Heroes of Paris seeks Emilie out for counseling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this one came from a guest review on FF.net. I’m a little surprised I didn’t think of it first!

Emilie was reading in the sanctuary of her suite, working her way through the final novel in one of her favorite book series from before the accident, when she felt it. A tight bundle of guilt, fear, and anxiety, all wrapped up together. Not someone she recognized immediately, but still vaguely familiar – certainly one of the Heroes of Paris, at least. She set her teacup on the end table and sat up, looking curiously at the door.

On his shelf next to the door, Duusu frowned, his plumage drooping. “Ooh, it doesn’t feel like she’s having a good day,” he observed, cocking his head toward the door. “That’s so sad…”

“We’d better see what she wants,” Emilie agreed as whoever it was rapped hesitantly on the door. “It’s open,” she called brightly. The door opened, and a blonde in a pink shirt poked her head inside. Emilie had seen her once or twice before, but couldn’t quite place it. But seeing the pink Kwami on her shoulder, she nodded in recognition, smiling warmly. “Ah! Good afternoon, Rose!”

Rose frowned, worried, hesitating with her hand still on the door handle. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mme Agreste,” she squeaked, looking down at the book in Emilie’s hands. “I should have called ahead; you’re busy. I–I can come back later.”

“Sweetie,” Emilie interrupted her gently, “I promise you aren’t interrupting anything. Have a seat.” She gestured toward the couch opposite her, setting her book aside and pulling another teacup off the shelf under the side table where her teapot sat on a warmer. “Do you like sugar in your tea?” she asked. “I only brewed it a half-hour ago or so, so it’s still good.”

“Sugar would be nice…” Rose agreed, accepting the cup awkwardly and clutching it in both hands, staring down into its depths.

“Normally that kind of tea tastes better when you actually _drink_ it,” Emilie pointed out after watching her sit for a minute without moving.

Rose chuckled humorlessly, her emotions roiling within her before raising the cup to her lips and taking a polite sip.

Emilie sighed. “I don’t need my miraculous to know that something is wrong,” she observed delicately, raising an eyebrow at the girl. “So: what can I do?”

Rose sniffed, and Daizzi patted her cheek consolingly. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Emilie could sense her reluctance, but watched her quietly. She had extended the hand; now it was up to Rose to choose whether or not to accept it. Finally Rose let out a heavy sigh. “I was on patrol with Chloe last night,” she admitted quietly. “I thought I was okay – or at least that I was hiding it okay – but Chloe saw through me right away. She said I wasn’t as bouncy and cheerful as normal.”

“It’s been like that for a while,” Daizzi reported sadly, hugging Rose’s cheek.

Rose tensed, sniffling. “So Chloe told me to come and talk to you,” she finally continued. “I told her I wasn’t sure if I really wanted to. But then Chloe said it wasn’t a suggestion: either I come on my own, or she gets Marinette and Juleka to _make_ me come. And if they wouldn’t do it, she would just tie me up in her yo-yo and drag me here herself.”

Emilie sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Oh, Chloe,” she muttered. While she appreciated Chloe’s enthusiasm, forced help was rarely as beneficial as when it was sought willingly. But she could work with this. Louder she told Rose, “I’m sorry for the way it happened. At the same time, just from what I can see, I do think Chloe was right to send you here. So why don’t you tell me what has you so upset? If it’s enough for other people to notice, then it’s not something you should ignore.”

Rose stared into her teacup and sniffed sadly. “It all started back in the spring,” she began. “It was only a month or so after Ladybug recruited me – I didn’t even know who she was yet, or even how… _expected_ it was for the heroes to know her identity. Rena Rouge showed up at my window and asked me to come with her on a mission. It was the same week we were all running around and trying to find Chloe, so of course I jumped at the chance to help. She wanted me to keep Lynchpin’s attention focused on _me_ so that she could arrange things elsewhere for the next part of her plan. She pointed me in the right direction, and I started planting a hedgerow maze in front of one of Lynchpin’s warehouses waiting for him to react. When he did, he sent people with flamethrowers to clear out the bushes, which gave Rena Rouge all the time she needed to finish her thing. All good, right?”

“It certainly sounds it,” Emilie agreed, nodding. She could feel Rose’s guilt and anxiety growing. “But from your tone I take it that it wasn’t all so good?”

Rose shook her head, staring down at the teacup in her trembling hands. “I didn’t find out until a month later, but my ‘distraction’ actually killed a woman,” she whispered. “And Lynchpin used that to recruit the woman’s husband into becoming Tyran-X.” She sighed heavily. “So I managed to create a super-villain, and I hadn’t even been a hero for two months.”

Emilie examined the girl in front of her quietly, sipping her tea pensively. “That is a terrible burden for you to bear,” she observed sympathetically. Rose nodded, stifling a sniffle. “With something like that, I would be surprised if you _weren’t_ feeling overwhelmed by guilt – at least occasionally.”

“ _That_ ’s an understatement,” Rose muttered glumly. “It’s like I can’t _not_ think about it! When we first found out, I froze up, and that let Tyran-X get away! I talked to Rena Rouge right after, and she said it wasn’t my fault, that I didn’t know she was there. This summer I talked to Ryoku after I almost got her killed – that’s _another_ thing – and she said that whatever guilt I feel about what happened, I can’t let it distract me because the best thing I can do for Tyran-X is _not_ let him actually kill me.”

Emilie kept her facial expression impassive but tensed internally. Duusu perked up at the change. “Is that something that you think could happen?”

Rose shrugged. “I mean, I don’t _want_ it to happen,” she answered. “But I’ve faced him twice, and both times ended with him hurting me. I just… I can’t bring myself to hurt him again, after how much I’ve hurt him already.”

“Do you think you deserve this? That you deserve to let him hurt you?”

“After how I hurt him… I don’t know.”

Emilie focused her attention on Rose’s emotions, watching her carefully. Finally she nodded. “It’s good that you can be honest about that.” She let out a breath. “Will allowing him to hurt you undo what happened?”

Rose’s shoulders slumped, and she shook her head. “No.”

Emilie glanced at Daizzi, who wore a worried expression on her face. “Are you going to _try_ to let him hurt you again?”

“No!” Rose insisted. But–” She hesitated. “I don’t know if I can’t fight him.”

“In that case, I would advise _avoiding_ a fight with him,” Emilie suggested.

Rose chuckled humorlessly. “Juleka and Kagami both told me the same thing.”

“I’m glad your friends are looking out for you,” Emilie observed. The mention of Juleka and Kagami had lifted Roses’ spirits slightly but done nothing for her emotional morass. “I sense that the guilt and shame have gotten all tangled up inside of you,” she finally observed. “Perhaps we can tease some of the strands out. You said you hadn’t been a hero for very long when this happened, and now this has become _the_ defining element of your superhero identity.”

“Even apart from what happened _to_ him, everything Tyran-X has _done_ … all of it is my fault…” whispered Rose.

“Are you a puppet master, pulling his strings?”

Rose cocked her head and stared at Emilie in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“What do you mean when you say that it’s all your fault? Are you telling him what to do? When he used In-Di-No to melt a hole in the ground large enough to fit a city bus last week, did you tell him to do it?” Emilie asked. Her teacup was empty, so she poured herself some more before offering to top off Rose’s cup.

Rose held out her cup and thought. “No…”

“When he helped destroy a football stadium a couple months ago, was that on your orders?”

“No.”

“When he nearly knocked the Eiffel Tower into the river, was that your fault?”

“I mean… if it weren’t for me, he would never have received the miraculous,” Rose argued, frowning.

“Or he would have received it under different circumstances and done all the same things anyways,” Emilie pointed out, arching an eyebrow at her. “It sounds to me like Tyran-X is a living, breathing, independent human being who has made all of his own choices. Those choices may have been informed by your actions, and your actions may even have pushed him into it, but they are still _his_ choices.”

Rose pursed her lips. The doubt and guilt in her emotions didn’t leave much room for critical thinking.

Emilie sighed. “Does your miraculous enable you to control people’s actions?”

“No?”

Daizzi scoffed, “ _Obviously_ not! That’s Pollen’s or Apuu’s job!”

Emilie hid a smile. “Then what about you yourself: can you force Juleka to do anything?”

Rose blushed. “Well…”

On feeling the girl’s emotions, Emilie coughed into her teacup. Clearing her throat awkwardly she clarified, “I mean, anything she doesn’t _want_ to do?”

“Oh. Then no.”

“What about your other friends? Would Kagami do something _just_ because you told her to?”

“Probably not,” Rose allowed.

“So how about _me_? Could you force _me_ to do something?”

“Well… no.”

“Is there anyone at all that you can _force_ to do something they don’t want to do?”

“No.”

Emilie fixed her with a serious gaze. “Then why should Tyran-X be any different?”

“I–huh.” Rose stared at her in surprise, her eyes widening in realization.

“Your actions are your actions,” Emilie explained calmly. “Tyran-X’s actions are his own. You can’t change what he does; it’s arrogant to try.”

Rose let out a breath; her guilt eased fractionally. “But what about his wife?” she asked, tears in her eyes.

Emilie smiled sympathetically. “ _That_ , I think, is the heart of the matter,” she replied. “Part of acknowledging that Tyran-X’s actions since that happened are _not_ your fault is accepting your part in the piece of this little puzzle that you _could_ control.”

Rose snorted humorlessly. “I already accepted that; that’s why I’m here in the first place!”

Emilie nodded. “Your actions did result in a woman’s death,” she agreed. “From what I understand, you didn’t know she was there, nor did you give the order to deploy _flamethrowers_. Nevertheless, you did set the events in motion.”

Rose’s shoulders slumped. “I’m a monster.”

Emilie covered Rose’s hand with her own. “You’re not a monster; you are a girl who made a choice without knowing the consequences. That you feel compassion for the one who has suffered the most from that choice shows that you are absolutely _not_ a monster,” she explained gently.

Tears trickled down Rose’s cheeks.

Emilie slid the tissue box across the coffee table. “Sweetie, even without my miraculous, I can tell that you aren’t the monster in this situation. You feel remorse. You want to make this right, even though you don’t see a way to do it. Those are not the emotions of a monster.”

“But what can I do?” Rose whispered, a pleading look in her eyes.

“At the moment?” Emilie asked. “Don’t go anywhere near Tyran-X until you _know_ that you can fight him without letting him hurt you. That would be a good first step.”

Rose nodded. “And?”

Emilie sighed sympathetically. “And forgive yourself for what happened.”

“I’ll try.”


	25. Caline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien's first teachers meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this one came from a guest review on FF.net.

A little after two, Emilie pushed the bakery’s front door open and let herself in. The seating area was deserted, the tables sparkling clean. Only two people were visible in the café. Sabine leaned casually against the counter, chatting away with a woman whose short red hair was held back in a tight bun. Not wanting to disturb their conversation, Emilie lingered by the door, allowing her eyes to wander as she took in the décor. A poster in the window displayed a trio of light orange bonbons with the phrase “Fall into Autumn Flavors” emblazoned around them in browns and oranges. Next to it she found a new poster showing an enormous figue sprinkled with powdered sugar and topped with a star-shaped petit-four. Below it sat a small Bûche de Noël decorated with Ladybug and Cat Noir figures standing in front of a Christmas tree, the words “Have a Very Miraculous Christmas!”

A wave from the counter drew Emilie’s attention back to her surroundings.

“Come on over, Emilie,” Sabine called cheerfully, holding a steaming cup of tea out to her. “Sorry I didn’t see when you came in!”

Emilie smiled back easily. “Not a problem,” she replied with a dismissive wave. “I just didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be interrupting,” Sabine assured her. “We’re just visiting. In fact,” she added slowly, eyes drifting between Emilie and the other woman, “I’m sure you would like a chance to visit with Caline, also!”

The woman at the counter, Caline, turned and started on taking a closer look at Emilie. “It’s nice to meet you, Mme Agreste,” she greeted her with a hint of embarrassment.

“Likewise, Mme…”

“Just Caline is fine.”

“Then you can call me ‘Emilie’,” she replied, smiling and taking a sip of the tea. She sighed. “You know me far too well, Sabine!”

“It’s a gift,” Sabine answered, grinning. “About half our regulars I can have their usual order already prepared before they reach the counter! Like Caline: black coffee, plus a fresh pastry as often as not. She was the kids’ homeroom teacher for Adrien’s first year in public school.”

“Oh! Of course!” Emilie nodded in realization, smiling. “They’ve told me so many wonderful stories about you. It’s a pleasure!” She cocked her head in confusion. “But shouldn’t you have class now?”

Caline shook her head. “I actually have a prep period at the moment, and sometimes I’ll run across the street for a caffeine boost,” she explained. “Some days I _need_ it…”

Emilie chuckled. “That’s a part of why I’m here, too,” she confessed. “That and the company!” She took another sip of her tea. “I’m glad for the opportunity to meet Adrien’s first teacher.”

Caline laughed and raised an eyebrow. “I suppose I could say the same thing, Emilie,” she pointed out. “After all, _you_ were his teacher long before I was!”

“I do hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Oh, no, he was a model student,” Caline assured her. “At the beginning of the year, he was almost a full grade level ahead of the class in Math and Literature – two in Science. And even with his… _photoshoots_ pulling him out of class on a regular basis, he never fell behind. I suppose that’s a testament to _your_ teaching more than _mine_!”

Emilie smiled in relief. “Teaching him a good work ethic was my first priority when he was younger,” she explained. “Since we were always running around for business, he had to know how to focus and make use of the time he had available – you never know when something else will pop up, so he had to be able to work ahead on his Math while waiting for his turn at a photoshoot.”

“It certainly helped him,” Caline agreed with a nod. “Even with all of the disruptions, he never fell behind. He really was a pleasure to have in class!”

“All the same, I am so glad he got so much socialization from school,” Emilie commented, frowning. “From what I understand, if it hadn’t been for that, I don’t know if he would _ever_ have had a chance to make friends!”

“Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure you’re correct there,” Caline agreed. Her emotions turning sad, she sniffed. “I’m glad he had such a positive experience with school. Especially his friends.” Her sadness shifted into pride. “Of course, that was more a testament to his attitude – and the class he was in.” She turned to Sabine. “I’ve been rather impressed with that whole class,” she added. “I’m sure they’ve done more than any other group of students I’ve ever taught.”

“Oh?” Emilie asked curiously, examining the other woman closely. There was a hint of amusement in Caline’s emotions, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Take Alya and her blog,” Caline explained. “I still remember how it started – her writing has always been decent, though her first several articles weren’t quite as professional as I think she thought they were. But since then? Her writing style has improved significantly with experience, as has the quality of her journalism. Her interview with you was excellent – every bit as professional as when you talked to Nadja Chamack. She certainly has a future in journalism if that’s what she decides to do.”

Sabine cleared her throat. “Unfortunately, Caline, it is that time…” she warned.

Caline glanced down at her watch and yelped. “Shoot,” she muttered, downing the rest of her coffee before tossing the cup in the trash and almost sprinting for the exit. “Thanks, Sabine. It was nice to finally meet you, Emilie.”

“Likewise,” Emilie answered warmly. “Why don’t you come over for tea after school some time – or wine, depending on the kind of day you had!”

“You know, I think I’ll take you up on that offer!” Caline agreed, giving her a small smile.

“What afternoon works for you?”

Caline hummed. “We have a staff meeting today, and I have Creative Writing Club tomorrow… Thursday?”

“Thursday I’m free!”

“Then I’ll see you then! And thanks.” Caline paused with her hand on the door, mouth twisting up in thought. Emilie sensed a trace of nervousness from her as her eyes drifted between Emilie and Sabine. “I’m glad _Ladybug_ and _Cat Noir_ were able to revive you.”

Emilie cocked her head suspiciously, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” Behind her, she felt a jolt of surprise from Sabine.

Caline pursed her lips, the nervousness increasing, and sighed. “When Gabriel was arrested, I started thinking, trying to figure out how I had missed that the father of one of my students was a super-villain,” she admitted. “And while I couldn’t think of any specific warning signs with _Gabriel_ – I didn’t interact with him often enough to see more than the reclusive genius façade – imagine my surprise on realizing just how many unscheduled ‘photoshoots’ Adrien had in the middle of the day. And how often Marinette was running off to the bathroom at the same time. Right when the Akuma alert sounded. _And_ how often the heroes showed up to Akumatizations in my class far too quickly for it to be mere coincidence.” She chuckled. “They _said_ that they had used the Horse Miraculous to get onto Startrain, but in retrospect I should probably have realized it then.”

Emilie nodded slowly as Caline’s nervousness morphed into embarrassment.

“I… I hope I’m not overstepping.” Caline grimaced. “And I assure you that I wouldn’t want to put either of them in danger by sharing this – with anyone.”

Emilie smiled, trying to put her at ease. “I know,” she assured her. “And the kids do trust you.”

“You have no idea how much Marinette adored you in collège,” Sabine added.

Caline nodded, sighing in relief. “I just…” She paused. “We all owe them so much.” She checked her watch again and muttered a curse. “And now I’m late. Have a good afternoon.”

“Same to you!” Sabine replied.

“I’ll see you Thursday!” Emilie called as Caline finally disappeared out the door.

After standing still and watching the door until it was fully shut, Sabine waited a beat and glanced over at Emilie. Raising an eyebrow she hummed contemplatively. “I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised by just how many people know,” she observed.

Emilie chuckled. “I suppose we should be glad there are so many people who care about them enough to notice!”


	26. Therapy Group Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie, Sabrina, and the Therapy Group take a trip to New Atlantis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a follow-up from [“Group Therapy,”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29286825/chapters/71918469) with a couple references back to the “Australia” chapter of this anthology.

As Emilie walked along the smooth path leading out of New Atlantis, the setting sun illuminating the small hill in front of them with a warm red glow, she thought back to the only other time she had visited the Australian Temple-Island, months ago. While Adrien and Marinette had met with the leaders of the other four miraculous teams, she had visited with representatives from the other Orders of the Guardians. It had been a good week of meetings, but they had been long – she and the others had only had a few hours each day for exploring the island. That trip had been all about business… right up until the trip was interrupted for a possible Shunjar invasion.

So what a strange twist of fate that she was now here to _visit_ a Shunjar!

Unfortunately, this trip wouldn’t be a particularly long one. Although Hoda had invited all of them to stay for a couple days, the girls all had classes on Monday, and trying to adjust to the time difference for a weekend and then back would be too much. As it was, Emilie’s head already hurt from trying to keep the time straight: Her body was still trying to wake up, but her senses were telling her that it was going to be dark soon. And after their dinner-for-breakfast, they would be returning to a Europe that had already eaten lunch. She rubbed her forehead. For as convenient as the portals were for short trips, traveling across the globe by them still carried its own problems.

Not that the time difference seemed to be affecting the younger ones.

Ahead of her on the path, Emilie could hear Chloe and Bri arguing. Chloe scoffed. “Are you telling me you _never_ got caught up in an Akuma attack?” she demanded. “How did you manage _that_ living in Paris?”

“Not _never_ ,” Bri retorted, rolling her eyes. “Zombizou, Syren… the ones that affected all of Paris – Darkblade even turned me into one of his knights. Then there was that time with the Tramp. But…” She paused, brows furrowed in thought. “No, I think that was it.”

Chloe shook her head ruefully. “It seemed like they were _always_ after me,” she commented wryly.

Bri snorted. “That sounds like a _you_ problem!” she teased, arching an eyebrow at her.

“Touché.”

Emilie smiled, feeling the girls’ high emotions – even Chloe seemed more amused by the conversation than anything else. Behind her, Anne and Sabrina were comparing notes. “So have you been here before now?” Anne asked curiously.

Sabrina shook her head. “Believe it or not, this is my first time visiting one of the other temples. Chloe’s been to all of them; so has Max, or at least to most of them – he installed all the portals except the ones in Angola and Mali. But I’ve never had to do any traveling for the Heroes of Paris since my role is largely confined to Paris itself, combing through the city’s emotions to find anyone in danger.”

Anne hummed. “I wouldn’t mind doing a little more travel,” she commented, running her fingers through the leaves of a bush alongside the path and causing a few of the leaves to elongate and produce thin white pinwheels. Duusu flew off of Emilie’s shoulder and pounced on the flowers, sniffing at them happily before picking a small handful and bringing them over to Emilie. “It’s pretty unreal, playing around with different types of plants!”

“Is it any different?” Sabrina asked. “Different types of flowers, or flowers from different places, I mean.”

Anne furrowed her brows and knelt beside the bush. “I… hmm. It’s… _different_ … but not _really_ different. If you know what I mean. It’s as different as trying to talk to Felix. They use the same ‘language’, but there’s just a hint of a difference.”

Sabrina hummed thoughtfully, tapping her chin. “You know,” she mused, “we really should have you over some time to test out your abilities, see what all you can do!”

“Bang on!”

Chloe stopped in front of a tall wooden door set into an alcove of the hill and rapped sharply. Only a moment later, the door opened and Aisha stood in the doorway. On catching sight of Chloe, her eyes lit up and she threw her arms around her in a hug before pulling Bri into the hug and looking past the two of them at the others. “You made it! I hoped you all would! Mr. Kassim is just finishing with the meat, and Hoda is setting the table. Abdi is here, too; I really want you all to meet my brother!”

Emilie smiled, suppressing a gasp at the pure happiness radiating from Aisha. On her shoulder, Duusu cooed in delight. Behind her, Emilie sensed a similar outpouring of elation from Sabrina as she also recognized it: the improvement in Aisha’s outlook and emotions over the last two weeks was absolutely breathtaking. Certainly some of that had come from the therapy retreat, but some of it must also have resulted from this visit, the week she and her brother had spent touring New Atlantis with Hoda. Emilie could still feel the pain and shame that had dominated her previously, now hidden well beneath the surface. But those emotions were far outweighed by this infectious happiness.

Was this closer to what she had been like before Popo?

Leaving such musings behind, Emilie following the others into the cave, a large stone-lined room, easily three meters in height, furnished simply with a human-sized couch and a pair of oversized chairs set around a coffee table shaped from petrified wood. An earth-toned woven mat covered most of the stone floor. From this large central living room, doorways radiated out like spokes of a wheel. Three of the doors were shut; what appeared to be a bathroom was visible through another. The sound of meat sizzling came from the room opposite the entrance. Voices could be heard from another doorway. The whole structure appeared to be lit by a mixture of electric lights set into the ceiling and natural light filtering in through shafts in the roof. Aisha led them toward the dining room, where Hoda and a boy who could only be Aisha’s twin were busy arranging plates and silverware on a long petrified-wood dining table. A black Kwami with pointy ears carefully placed a salt shaker in the center of the table next to the matching pepper shaker. Hoda looked up and waved as Aisha ran over to Abdi, grabbed him by the hand, and dragged him over to the others, beaming with excitement.

“These are my new friends,” Aisha told him, introducing them.

“It’s… nice to meet you.” Abdi’s eyes shifted nervously between the five of them. Emilie could sense his anxiety and fear building. His Kwami floated up from the table and settled on Abdi’s shoulder, curling up and fixing the newcomers with an unblinking gaze.

“Wait… is that Growll?” asked Duusu, perking up. He grinned and tackled the Kwami into a hug. “It’s been ages! It’s so amazing to see you again! Nooroo, look who it is!”

Emilie raised an eyebrow at Sabrina as Nooroo joined the other two Kwamis in flitting around the high ceiling, chattering in high-pitched voices.

Sabina nodded in recognition and smiled warmly at Abdi. “Aisha has told us so much about you; it’s nice to have a face to put with the name!”

“Um… thanks…” Emilie could still sense his nervousness growing by the minute. Perhaps the number of people in the room was too much for him?

Sabrina gave Hoda a quick hug, a contemplative look in her eyes. “Thank you for the invitation!” she told her. “I love your house: it’s so different from anything I’ve seen before.”

“Would you like a tour before dinner?” Hoda offered, her mouth parting in a smile. “This isn’t _exactly_ like home, of course – Cyclone did his best, but he could only work from our descriptions. But the lighting shafts are exactly like how I remember; growing up my friends and I would play games to see who could throw the most stones in a row through one of them from the bottom without touching the edges.” She pointed out a painting of a green-and-tan orb on the wall just inside the central room. “Father drew that after we arrived – it’s supposed to be home.”

“Is the green part the jungle you mentioned?” asked Anne.

Hoda nodded. “The city where we lived was just on the northern edge of the jungle.”

The others all followed Hoda out of the dining room as she pointed out other features of the house. Emilie hung back, examining the contours in the table. Before long, she, Abdi, and the Kwamis were the only ones left in the room. Abdi’s anxiety spiked again.

Emilie helped herself to a water glass and took a small sip. “Your sister is doing so much better now than she was the last time I saw her,” she began, watching him closely for his reaction.

Abdi nodded. “I–yeah, she is,” he agreed, his emotions still in turmoil, though with happiness starting to encroach on the anxiety.

“I think that this trip has helped her,” Emilie continued.

Guilt and shame rose up in Abdi. “It has.”

“And you’re upset with yourself that you didn’t do anything sooner to help her escape from Popo?” asked Emilie.

Abdi looked up at her in surprise. “Well, yeah… If I had just tried hard enough, maybe I could have gotten her away from Popo months earlier than I actually did.” His shoulders slumped. “Maybe then she wouldn’t have been hurt so badly.”

Emilie hummed. “It is possible that you might have rescued her and escaped,” she allowed. “But what might have been the tradeoff for that?”

“Popo could have caught us and killed us.” His emotions turned sad. “Then it would have been pointless.”

Emilie nodded. “You both survived,” she pointed out. “And you still have each other. Given the circumstances, that isn’t something to take lightly. Not only that, but you retained a desire to help people, rather than do to _them_ what was done to _you_.”

Abdi frowned.

Sensing that Hoda and the others had almost returned, Emilie put a gentle hand on Abdi’s shoulder. “I can see that this is still painful for you,” she told him. “Would you like to visit some more later?” He eyed her nervously, his mouth twisting around into a frown. Emilie could feel his anxiety increase. “Maybe not today, then,” she decided. His anxiety abated. “But if you ever need to talk to someone about it, Aisha and Mohamed both know how to contact me. You aren’t alone anymore; you don’t have to work through this on your own.”

Abdi nodded. “Thanks,” he answered as the rest of the group returned.

“Who’s hungry?” called another Shunjar, this one even taller than Hoda herself – her father, Kassim. He carried an enormous platter laden down with an entire roasted side of beef which he placed on the sideboard. Hoda and Aisha followed him, carrying smaller platters, one with a garden salad and the other with some flatbread. Kassim held out his hand to Emilie. “You must be the one Hoda and Aisha have been raving about all week!” he greeted her, his mouth turning up in a toothy smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you – though after listening to them I feel like I know you and the others already!”

“Likewise,” Emilie replied, taking one of the offered talons. “And thank you for the invitation! The food looks delicious – and I know this isn’t what you normally eat.”

Kassim shrugged one shoulder. “It’s the least I could do.” He paused. “Thank you for everything you did for my daughter.”

Emilie smiled. “That was my pleasure. They were all so wonderful to work with; I’m glad I was able to help them.” She looked around at the others, all of whom were conversing happily as they found their seats at the table. “To be honest, I think they helped each other as much as Sabrina or I helped them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I only have one “Fridge” chapter left to write, which will probably post after the upcoming “Lukagami” story since it will come after the New Year. In the meantime, tomorrow will be another “Life and Times” one-shot, with an “SLD Case Report” starting after that. Then it will finally be Christmastime in-universe!


End file.
